


mining for a chance

by manicmidnight, ruxian



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Comedy, Cooking, Denial, Dorks in Love, Folklore, Getting Together, Historical References, Liam is Gone and it's not even funny, Liam is Totally Put Together, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Puppy Pack, Romance, Romantic Comedy, The Abandoned Mineshaft Outside of Town, Theo is a Little Shit, am bad at writing relationships kdjksajd, for like 0.0002 seconds - Freeform, i can't believe that's a tag hELP, i tried!!! really hard!!!!, someone help the boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-26 17:10:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16685701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manicmidnight/pseuds/manicmidnight, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruxian/pseuds/ruxian
Summary: Beacon Hills is hit with a string of sudden disappearances - a master serial thief at work. This wouldn’t really be a problem, except Corey’s lost his camera - the key to passing his photography course. Mason the harried boyfriend is harried, and Liam can’t take the constant fretting; there’s only so much a boy can take! Obviously, this calls for drastic action - but no worries, Liam’s on the case!...Now, if only stupid, jerk-face Theo would stop running through his mind all the damn time.





	mining for a chance

**Author's Note:**

> This was a tough one to write! Mainly because it involved relationships, and pining and getting together -- stuff I usually don't do! But it was fun, and I have @officialthiamlibrary to thank for setting this event up! I stressed so many times over being able to meet my deadlines -- and, forewarning: the latter half of the fic might sound _much_ different compared to the first half since I was working around my exams!
> 
> This wouldn't have been possible without [Lauren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnLeavesSoaring/pseuds/AutumnLeavesSoaring) and [Rux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruxian/pseuds/ruxian)! Lauren, thank you so much for agreeing to Beta for me -- Lord knows I needed it! I appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to make room for this, thank you so, so much!!
> 
> Rux, beautiful, wonderful, brilliant artist o' mine, thank you for taking on two times the load and cheering me on while touching up your art! I know I whined a bunch, multiple times, and even screamed a lot bUT I APPRECIATE YOU SCREAMING BACK AT ME!!! Thank you so much for your effort, I don't even have the proper words to convey how sweet you've been!
> 
> jkjnsakdn I hope you guys enjoy reading this!!
> 
>  **WARNING:** there is one panic attack that is _not_ graphically described. However, if you'd like to skip that section, it begins with 'His chest heaves as he struggles for air' and ends with ' "Are you feeling a little better now?" '.
> 
> you can find Rux's gorgeous art [here](https://rux-ian.tumblr.com/post/180325551989/summary-beacon-hills-is-hit-with-a-string-of)!

It’s sweltering hot outside, and Liam is uncomfortable in a countless number of places he’d rather not name. It’s also _really_ loud, with people hurrying about and trying to get in measurements to accurately tailor outfits in time for their photoshoots.

_Pah. Photoshoots._

This is what happens when he lets people rope him into doing them favors. Especially people with manipulative boyfriends. Liam is _not_ a human pincushion and, yet, that’s exactly what he feels like, at the moment.

 _Liam the Human Pincushion_ : he was a brave soul. _RIP Liam the Human Pincushion_. _Human Pincushion is Pincushioned to_ — no, it doesn’t sound appealing no matter how Liam sounds it out in his head. Impossible! Which brings up the question:

“Remind me again why I agreed to this?” He double-checks.

“You didn’t.” Mason answers helpfully from behind him, and Liam grunts when the measuring tape around his midsection is pulled tighter than normal.

“But—!” He cuts himself off when Mason gives him a warning tug. He’d rather not have his torso cleaved right off. “But _why_?”

Mason doesn’t answer, focusing on measuring Liam’s waist accurately and jotting down something in his little notebook. Obviously, he’s trying to avoid the question – maybe because he’s regretting being here too.

“Stop complaining.” Theo makes his unnecessary opinion known instead because, obviously, he doesn’t know how to _keep his_ _damn mouth shut_. “All you have to do is stand there and look pretty. It’s not a big deal.”

And then, before Liam can even dignify that with a response, the grin on Theo’s face sharpens into a cruel, vindictive smirk.

“Well,” He corrects, “Not for me anyway. As for you… well, I guess you could scrape by if you tried hard enough.”

Liam squawks indignantly and wishes he could find something to throw at the stupid chimera. He wouldn’t risk pouncing on him and clawing at his face like he wants to, in fear of Mason’s wrath; when the dude gets designing, you do _not_ want to get in his way. Still, he burns with the need to do _something_.

Theo, for the most part, completely ignores him and smiles flirtily at one of Mason’s co-workers instead. When he notices Liam staring, his smile only grows, and he winks at him. _Winks_.

_Asshole._

Speaking of which: Liam can’t find Corey anywhere, which sucks. Majorly. He’s actually compiled a list of reasons why this is a problem:

  1. Liam doesn’t want to be here
  2. Corey was supposed to be here _ages_ ago
  3. His butt’s starting to develop a serious itch
  4. This a studio for _clothes_ and Liam hates those
  5. They’re here for _Corey’s_ damn photoshoot
  6. _Which he is late for_
  7. Liam’s stuck wearing _itchy_ pants
  8. Corey needs to come by and approve Mason’s ( _itchy_ ) designs
  9. HIS BUTT IS LITERALLY CRAWLING GET IT _OFF_
  10. Liam just wants to _go home_.



Alright, so, _maybe_ certain points are significantly more important than some others, but they matter in Liam’s heart okay? ~~Or, more accurately, in his butt, but _oh well now’s not the time_~~.

“You’d think Corey would be here by now.” Mason is starting to look a little worried, eyes darting around nervously for his boyfriend, and Liam wants to snort. Preferably to the death. He doesn’t have an inclination to compete for the prize for Ultimate Third Wheel with Theo, unfortunately, because that’s usually what happens. Mason sees Corey, or Corey sees Mason, and their heads inflate to the point that all they can see are little butt-naked cupids sitting on clouds and ~~harping~~ singing for them to kiss already.

And now Liam’s thinking about butts again. More specifically, _his_.

“This doesn’t fit!” He whines, vying for Mason’s attention. Is he being a little childish? _Hell_ _yes_ , and he doesn’t even care. These pants are painful, okay? “C’mon, can’t I take it off?”

“No.” Mason says flatly, unimpressed, and the forgotten tape measure strikes again, this time wrapping around Liam’s chest with enough force to potentially crush it. “We’re here because we want to make it fit in time for the photoshoot. Now do me a favor and shut up.”

“Mason,” Liam breathes out, shocked. Mason is evidently worried by his tone, and quickly finds Liam’s eyes. “I thought we were _friends_.”

The worried look on Mason’s face fades as fast as it came.

“Shut _up_ , Liam.” Mason’s clearly beginning to regret being here, and Liam is simply filled with ~~glee~~ relief that his friend finally _understands_. “I’m worried about Corey.”

Or maybe not.

“Corey’s _fine_.” Liam rolls his eyes, though he chokes when Mason reminds him of the Tape Measure of Doom with a rather… _physical_ example. “Besides, he can turn invisible! He’s probably fine. It’s all Gucci—”

“Why—?” Mason’s the one who cuts himself off this time, taking a step back. Liam breathes out a sigh of relief—mostly because he can breathe at all. “You know what? Go complain to Theo about your butt, man. I’m going to try and call Corey.”

“Try not to sext him instead, I don’t want to smell that shit.” Liam snaps out of sheer pettiness. Mason just flips him off. “And, y’know what? I think I _will_ talk to Theo!”

“Please don’t.” Theo interrupts his moment of glory, as usual. “I don’t really care about your ass, Dunbar. It’s practically non-existent anyway.”

“Excuse me,” Liam says.

“You’re excused,” Theo all but sings, obediently lifting his hands up for his biceps to be measured. Who cares about his biceps? Not Liam, no, of _course not_.

Liam spares the bulging muscles just one more glance. A tiny one. Then, he looks away, and focuses on Mason’s retreating back again.

Alright, so maybe he’s being a little unfair. Liam can actually see the low fear outlined by Mason’s stance, the way his shoulders tighten the slightest bit when Corey’s phone goes straight to voicemail. He doesn’t even need to scent him, not when Mason’s practically worry incarnate.

“Hey.” He steps forward, moving forward and laying a hand on his friend’s shoulder. It worries him a little when Mason barely responds—did he push it too far with the teasing, before? “It’ll be okay. We’ll give it a little more time, and if he doesn’t show up, we can go out and look for him, alright?”

“I don’t know,” Mason voices uncertainly, and all the noise in the world couldn’t possibly drown out the tiniest hitch in his breath. Liam doesn’t like the sound of that. “Last time we couldn’t find him, he—”

He breaks off there, and Liam’s swamped by feelings of _fearguiltanger_ on loop. He can’t take it, head beginning to spin with the brunt of Mason’s emotions and, so, he grasps his shoulder a little more tightly.

“We’ll wait a bit longer,” he repeats, softer this time. Mason’s honest-to-god worried and Liam’s an asshole—but he’s not _that_ much of an asshole. Theo on the other hand… well, he’s just incorrigible. “Maybe he’s just running late? Traffic and stuff?”

“Beacon Hills doesn’t _have_ traffic!” Mason turns to him, cocoa brown eyes wide and pleading. Liam’s eyes, on instinct, dart to Theo, who he notices is watching the two of them with an impassive gaze. “You know that! And he isn’t even answering his phone!”

“Calm down,” Theo finally speaks, making them both look. “He knows how to take care of himself and – look, you were worried for nothing – there he is.”

At that, Liam’s head swivels to the door and, much to his relief, he sees Corey appear; clothes rumpled, hair disheveled but _here_. He’s not covered in blood either—and that’s _always_ a plus.

“Where’ve you been?” He asks, even as Mason moves to fret over his boyfriend. “Mason was going stir-crazy over here.”

“I know, I know!” Corey can’t even muster up the strength to smile, hurriedly moving towards them with his camera bag slung over his shoulder. “But I had trouble finding some things!”

“Like what?” Theo asks, eyes narrowed on the bag, “Your camera?”

Liam turns to him, surprised. When he looks closely at the bag, he still doesn’t see what Theo’s talking about. “You don’t have your camera on you?”

“ _No_.” Corey hisses, darting closer. He beckons Theo to their little huddle as well, making the other chimera oblige reluctantly with a scoff. “I just brought the bag so none of the staff here would lose their good impression of me.”

“Corey,” Liam interrupts, features serious, “You’re the epitome of a teacher’s pet. They’ll eat up literally _anything_ you say.”

“That’s true.” Theo agrees with Liam—surprisingly—and Liam nearly smiles at him before he remembers himself. He won’t be caught off guard, not by that little shit. “But that begs the question: where _is_ your camera?”

“Yeah.” Mason says and, when Liam looks, they’ve taken each other’s hands. _Ew._ “I’m glad you’re safe, but I was really worried…”

“Sorry.” Corey squeezes Mason’s hand tightly, and Liam wants to gag at the look in his eyes. Disgusting, truly. “But the answer to your question, Theo, is this.”

Corey stares pointedly at his bag.

With bated breath, Liam waits. Theo waits. Mason waits.

Corey doesn’t say another word.

“Well?” Liam demands, finally getting impatient. He can tell from the lightest tick of Theo’s brows that he shares the sentiment. “Where is it?”

“Exactly.” Corey nods sagely, and Liam wants to break up the group huddle then and there because this is _ridiculous_.

“…That’s not an answer.” Theo frowns. Liam’s agreement comes in the form of a blank look directed at Corey.

Mason rolls his eyes.

“He’s saying that he doesn’t know where it is,” he complains, looking like he wants to throw his hands up in exasperation. Liam wouldn’t put it past him—he’s done that in the past. “Jesus, the both of you really are made for each other, aren’t you?”

“Okay, so you’re forgetful,” Theo says airily, while Liam seethes indignantly for the both of them. “What’s so worrying about that?”

“I wouldn’t ever misplace my camera!” Corey says loudly – a little _too_ loudly. Many heads swivel to look in their direction, and Corey smiles unconvincingly at everyone till they turn back to what they were doing in the first place. “Sorry. Anyway, I’m always really careful about my camera! You guys _know_ that.”

Liam wants to deny it, he really does. Frankly, he doesn’t like knowing this much about Corey —they might’ve made up or whatever for Mason, but the PDA the two have going on is simply unforgivable. Unfortunately, he knows it’s true.

From the pinched look on Theo’s face, he knows it too.

“You think someone stole it?” Mason takes over the line of questioning. Smart. That’s smart. Mason’s smart. Liam’s starting to think in circles—he supposes he can blame the pants for this.

Damn it. He’s thinking about them again.

“I don’t know,” Corey shrugs helplessly, and that stupid Sad Pup face he makes tugs invariably at Liam’s heartstrings. That boy sure knows how to get what he wants. “It didn’t seem like it. I didn’t scent anything, that’s for sure.”

“Maybe you couldn’t scent it out since you’re a chimera?” Mason suggests hopefully, but Theo shakes his head.

“No, that’s not right,” he corrects, and something tells Liam he won’t like what’s next. “Whatever the odor version of tone deaf is: that’s Liam, compared to me.”

“That’s not true!” Liam protests angrily.

“It’s been tried and tested,” Theo retorts serenely. Liam wants to choke that stupid peaceful expression off his face. “There’s no point denying it, Little Wolf.”

Ah yes. The stupid nickname strikes again.

“Stupid,” Liam mutters petulantly, like it makes a huge difference. “See if I call _you_ by your name, you crazy chimera. Ha! That should be your nickname!”

“You get stupider every time you open your mouth.” Theo wrinkles his nose at him— _wrinkles his nose! What is he, an 85-year-old?_ — and Liam glares stonily back at him. “I’d advise you to keep it shut, but apparently you don’t know how to even do _that_.”

“Shut _your_ mouth before I _make_ you,” Liam growls, muscles beginning to tense up.

“Oh, I’d like to see you try,” Theo counters smoothly, eyes boring holes into Liam’s face.

Their stare-off is interrupted by Mason, as usual.

“Oi, pay attention!” Liam’s best friend in the whole world says before muttering, under his breath, “And you guys call _us_ disgusting.”

He’s not Liam’s Best Friend in the Whole World anymore. He can be Liam’s Best Traitor Friend instead.

“Look, the point is: I need to find it,” Corey interrupts Liam’s train of thought, much like his idiot boyfriend. He’s starting to look frantic though, panic beginning to sift into his eyes. “I will actually sob to death if I don’t find it.”

“We’ll look for it.” Mason rubs his thumb along Corey’s hand, smiling softly at him. For a moment, Theo and Liam put aside their differences and share a mutually disgusted look. “Don’t worry.”

“How much time do we have?” Liam asks; always with the important questions.

“Well, I’ll need it before the shoot,” Corey says, mouth turned down pensively, “so… in seven days, give or take.”

“Oh boy,” Mason mutters, and Liam frowns at him confusedly.

“What’s the problem with that?” He demands to know. “A week is plenty.”

“No, it’s really not,” Theo disagrees vehemently. “You have absolutely no idea where it’s gone. Beacon Hills is still a pretty big town and if someone stole it, they could’ve just pawned it off. Tracking it down’s going to be a _huge_ pain in the ass.”

“Oh.” Liam stops, considering. Corey looks close to tears, and Mason’s biting his lip now, in full-on Fret Mode. “Well, there are four of us, so—”

“Oh _no_.” There’s somewhat of a nasty little smile on Theo’s nasty little face, and Liam’s heart drops at the very sight of it. “I think you mean _three_ of you. I don’t really care enough to help.”

“You little _shit_ —” If he’d been wearing a long-sleeved shirt, Liam would’ve pushed up the sleeves to show off his muscular forearms threateningly. You know, like in the movies. As it is, however, Mason actually needs to hold him back from clawing at Theo’s stupid, pretty face.

Wait, no. Not pretty! Nasty. Theo’s stupid, _nasty_ face. That’s more like it.

“Sorry that some of us use our _brains_ , Dunbar,” Theo says smugly, adding fuel to the fire. “I’m not doing something that’ll just end up being a waste of time.”

“You little fucker,” Liam says, but doesn’t utter a word more. He, frustratingly, doesn’t know _what_ to say.

“It’s alright, Liam.” Corey smiles tiredly at him, fluffing his hair up with a hand. “Thanks anyway, Theo.”

Sometimes, Liam thinks pensively, Corey really is an idiot.

“Why’re you thanking him?” He demands, Mason rolling his eyes as he steps away. “He basically just told you to piss off!”

“Unlike _someone_ ,” Theo answers snidely, “he was actually taught some manners.”

Liam swears, claws ripping loose because _how dare he_. Someone shouts in sloppily restrained panic, but all he can think about is how Theo’s dumb face would look with some scars. Not that he wants to think about Theo’s face. Why would he? It’s… it’s dumb.

“—Liam? _Liam!_ ” He hears Mason shout, and that, along with Corey’s relieved sigh, is the only reason Theo’s face lives to see another day.

“Y-Yeah?” He tries to shrug off his lapse in attention, though Mason doesn’t seem very impressed, judging by his narrowed eyes. He doesn’t like them knowing how the anger makes him get lost in his head sometimes. Liam doesn’t like _himself_ knowing it either, but he doesn’t really have a choice, does he?

“You need to stop being so – so _aggressive_ , man,” He complains, Corey looking to be in uncomfortable agreement with him. Liam honestly just feels betrayed, at this point.

No, really. Mason’s just being unfair.

“You think I want to be like this?” He asks quietly, all the ire from before evaporating with a hiss. His moderately good mood is gone too, and even the sight of a frown on Theo’s lips doesn’t lift his spirits in the slightest.

(It, maybe, even dampens it. Just a bit.)

Mason’s eyes widen, like he’s just realized what he’s said. Liam doesn’t care though; he obviously meant it. And he knows—he _knows_ just how much Liam hates himself for that anger, for that crippling rage. But, hey, what would Liam know, right? Obviously, he’s never shown himself to give a shit.

“Liam…” Corey starts hesitantly, eyes darting quickly to Mason and then back to him. “I… Mason didn’t mean that—”

“Doesn’t matter, I guess.” Liam shrugs, suddenly feeling at odds with himself. It’s like his brain’s been ejected, body moving on autopilot as his voice grows faint, “I think… I think I’ll go home now.”

He nearly forgets that _Theo’s_ the one who’s going to need to drop him, and about the fact that he’s wearing those ridiculously itchy pants. All he can think about – _all he can feel_ —is the need to leave, to get out of here.

So he does, shoving past people with armfuls of clothes— shouldering some unlucky models being fitted into their clothes— and spilling out into the open, air filling his lungs in a deep intake of breath. It’s significantly quieter outside, and Liam can finally _think_ without so many thoughts flying around his head; which is why it’s fitting that everything finally sinks in and leaves him red-cheeked in mortification.

Trust Liam to act like a total idiot in front of everyone. In front of _Theo_ , of all people.

“That was quicker than usual.”

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. Liam doesn’t need to look to know who’s there; who else could it possibly be? Dry tone, lilting down slightly at the ends, and raspy breaths—it’s Theo. It’s always Theo who gets to see Liam embarrass himself.

“Shut up, Theo.” He kicks at nothing in particular, but pretends it’s Theo’s face instead. It doesn’t serve to make him feel much better. “Why’re you even here?”

“I’m your ride, aren’t I?” Theo knocks his shoulder against Liam’s on purpose, like the arrogant little bastard he is, as he saunters past him. “Unless you want me to leave you here with the Starry Eyed Lovers, in which case: suit yourself.”

“No, I’m coming,” Liam growls angrily under his breath, following Theo in quick strides. It’s not because he’s shorter or anything—he just… he just wants some peace and quiet, for once, and walking in front of Theo is like inviting him to make some sort of caustic comment that’ll inevitably lead to a fist fight.

Liam’s more than ready to just go home and stuff his head into a pillow.

“Thought so,” Theo hums like he really _did_ know what Liam was going to do, and it irks Liam to no end. He can’t do anything about it though, so he digs his nails into the palms of his hands and vows to take his revenge. Theo won’t see it coming. “You might want to stop walking now, or you’ll hit the car.”

Liam blinks, finding himself just inches away from walking into Theo’s blue truck. He’s never been much of a car nerd ( _car junkie?_ ) but Theo takes utmost pride in this stupid thing—it’s ridiculous. Liam’s never said anything, though, because he’s many things; but, he’s not _heartless_.

Plus, sometimes Theo seems like he could be really nice. Like right now, for example.

“Thanks,” He says, because he _does_ have manners; regardless of what Theo seems to think.

“I mean, it’d have been funny,” Theo continues to explain, like Liam didn’t say anything at all. “But I didn’t want my truck to dent.”

Never mind. Liam hates him again. Stupid Theo.

Liam growls low in his chest in warning—like in a _fuck with me one more time Raeken, and you’ll regret it_ kind of way—but it falls flat, ending more like a whine. Liam’s _really_ tired.

But, he’s not tired enough to possibly like Theo, ever.

“I want food,” He demands, because he deserves it for putting up with Theo’s snark and just Theo in general. “Greasy food.”

“How’s that any different from what you eat on the daily?” Theo sighs, clambering into his truck.

Liam follows suit, making an affronted noise in the back of his throat.

“I eat lots of _protein_!” He retorts, buckling in his seat belt ( _road safety’s important, kids!!_ ), “Unlike _someone_ , I actually play sports.”

“Yet, my muscles are better defined then yours.” Theo looks unimpressed, as usual. “Explain that, Dunbar.”

Yeah, Liam _really_ doesn’t like Theo.

“Shut up and drive me to my food,” He says in lieu of admitting defeat, and Theo snickers audibly – the absolute _bastard_.

“Of course, _your highness_.” Theo even mock bows his torso at him, and it takes everything in him for Liam not to claw at Theo’s face. “Your wish is my command, _sire_.”

In revenge for that, Liam leaves gaping claw marks on the underside of his seat. A small, vindictive part of him wonders how long it’ll take for Theo to find them.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

> **angry growly:** _any update w/the stuff?_
> 
>         **Mason:** _what’re you talking about liam_
> 
>         **angry growly:** _u know_
> 
> _the stuff_
> 
>         **Invisible Man:** _liam no one understands u_
> 
> **angry growly:** _dat’s coz ur all dumvs_
> 
> _*dumbs_
> 
> **Ma** **son:** _right. theo?_
> 
>         **Theo:** _he’s talking about your camera. Idiots._
> 
>         **angry growly:** _see he thinks ur a dumb too_
> 
>         **Theo:** _It was Idiots – plural. You’re included, Dunbar._
> 
>         **Invisible Man:** _oooooooooooo_
> 
>         **angry growly:** _NO ONE CARES COREY_
> 
>         **Mason:** _no bro wtf that was pretty decent_
> 
>         **angry growly:** _ET TU MASON :0_
> 
> _u know wat_

**angry growly** _has changed_ **Mason’s** _nickname to_ **Poopy**

 

 

 

> **angry growly:** _ha_
> 
>           **Poopy:** _wow liam, that’s so mature_
> 
>           **angry growly:** _wow liam, that’s so mature_
> 
>                                 _well poo you, Poopy_
> 
>           **Poopy:** _oh my god i’m l eaving_

**Poopy** _has left_ **Group Chat**

 

 

 

> **angry growly:** _u kno, i never figured out y we didn’t change the name of the chat_
> 
> **Invisible Man:** _omg_
> 
>                                _are we just gonna ignore that he left??_
> 
> **Theo:** _Obviously because I forbid it._
> 
> **angry growly:** _ugh_
> 
> **Invisible Man:** _guys????? mason????_
> 
> **Theo:** _Oh, right. @angrygrowly, you’re grounded._
> 
> **angry growly:** _:0 u can’t do that!!_
> 
> **Theo:** _I just did._
> 
> **angry growly:** _u know what_
> 
> _i’m not scared of u, raeken_
> 
> **Invisible Man:** _omg_

**angry growly** _has changed the name of this chat to_ **I Scratched Out Theo’s Car Seat**

 

 

 

> **Theo:** _YOU WHAT?!_
> 
> **angry growly:** _what it says on the tin :)_
> 
> **Invisible Man:** _O.O u, my friend… u have no fear_
> 
> **angry growly:** _that right biatches_
> 
> **Theo:** _You’re fukcign DEAD Dunbar_
> 
> _Look out the window, bitch._
> 
> **angry growly:** _wait wh_

5:31PM

 

 

 

> **Invisible Man:** _liam??? Liam are you there??? LIAM??????????_

 

* * *

 

“Stop,” Liam whimpers, clawing weakly at his bedsheets in an effort to keep his eyes open. Gasps escape his lips as he struggles to prop his head up, his pillow too far out of reach to be of any use to him. “No more, I’m – _ah_ – begging you!”

He’s sure his side is bleeding. It _must_ be bleeding. It feels as though someone’s dragged exactly five rusted nails down from his mid-chest to his hip, undoubtedly leaving gouging crimson marks behind. His body twitches uncontrollably as Liam curls into a small ball – anything to make the pain stop.

Theo seems unimpressed.

“Stop pretending you’re dying,” he complains, arms crossed; it allows Liam a moment of respite to sit upright, for the first time since Theo’s impromptu visit. “I just tickled you, you absolute moron.”

Liam frowns at that.

“First of all,” he begins, “ _rude_. Second of all, this was life-threatening, do you hear me? I couldn’t _breathe_. I could’ve _died_! And third: what’re you even _doing_ here?!”

Theo scowls back at him and, like the asshole he is, ignores Liam’s argument entirely. “I was on my way here _before_ you so _kindly_ informed me as to the condition of my truck.”

At that, his composure cracks a little, belying sorrow, mixed with a little rage. Liam gulps.

“Point is, I’m here for my money.” Theo says, holding out a hand expectantly. Liam stares at it, eyes tracking the grooves of his palm, the slow callouses building up. “So: pay up.”

“What money?” Liam asks stupidly, still staring.

Theo raises an eyebrow slowly, like he’s been dealt with a five-year-old instead of a grown man-boy. Liam’s not sure if he’s a man or a boy yet, so man-boy is what he prefers to call it. Either way, Theo looks about 53% done.

“You know, when you made me buy you food yesterday?” Theo says pointedly. His eyes are all but shooting daggers into the depths of Liam’s very soul: _ouch_.

“I… don’t have any money on me.” He says lamely, and Theo’s stare intensifies.

“I see,” is all the chimera says, and Liam’s eyes are immediately drawn down to Theo’s hands as he cracks his knuckles threateningly, “Then I guess I wouldn’t mind letting you die this time.”

Liam pales.

“No, no!” He croaks out, frantically scrambling back. Waving an arm as Theo approaches, he pauses for only a moment before he starts pleading with the chimera. “No, no more tickles – NO, I’M SORRY I WON’T DO IT AGAIN!”

He throws his hands up, flinching back in anticipation of another tickle attack. When none is forthcoming, Liam allows himself to peek out between the slits of his fingers.

Theo looks a little smug now. What a bastard.

“What a bastard.” Liam repeats out loud, scowling. This makes the smile on Theo’s lips only grow.

“And here I thought you weren’t afraid of me,” He says lowly, smile transforming into a familiar smirk as he throws himself back on Liam’s bed. Liam doesn’t like it.

 

( _he might love it. just a little._ )

 

“I’m not,” Liam lies through his teeth, and flinches back when Theo makes to move at him threateningly.

“Right.” Theo clucks his tongue unconvincingly, eyes sliding from Liam back to the ceiling to stare at the cracks roving overhead. “Of course you’re not.”

Liam is normally all for silence. You can ask anyone, and they’ll tell you that Liam is the human equivalent of an owl—quiet, deadly and _ready_.

 _Well_ , Liam amends quickly, _anyone except Theo. And Corey. And Melissa and Scott and Stiles—basically, scratch out everyone who knows me._

That’s actually not a very comforting thought, so he shoves it aside. The point is, Liam is usually okay with silence but, with Theo, it’s just _weird_. Maybe it’s because most of the time they used to be in the same vicinity, people were always dying. There was always some sort of apocalyptic scenario that needed to be dealt with, and Liam and Theo were surrounded by terrified screams or shouts or dead bodies.

In fact, the last time the both of them were _this_ quiet, they were at the abandoned Zoo. Liam squints lightly at his hands, deciding that it’s been a decidedly long time since then.

“What’re you thinking about?” There’s a tired note in Theo’s voice, but Liam tries to ignore that to avoid feeling guilty – even though he has nothing to feel guilty about. “You look like you’re in pain.”

“The Zoo.” Liam decides to be the mature one here – unfair, really, since _Theo’s_ the older one – and turns to face the brunette. “It was just… the quiet.”

He flaps a hand half-heartedly at the room in general to indicate his issue with the Quiet. To his credit, Theo _does_ understand, knowing shining clearly in his eyes. That’s one of the few nice things about Theo—one of the things that makes Liam _want_ him around, sometimes. Usually when his defenses are down. Not _that_ often.

“It’s been a long time since the Zoo.” Theo mirrors Liam’s thoughts exactly, “I’m a little surprised that you remembered it now.”

“Of course I remember it!” Liam feels slighted, and he isn’t even sure why. It’s just the Zoo – it’s not a big deal, but it’s _important_.

“I never said you _wouldn’t_.” Theo rolls his eyes, batting at Liam’s thigh lightly, “I just said I didn’t think you would _now_. Like, in connection to whatever it is that’s going on in your head.”

“Oh.” Liam’s quiet for a moment, deliberating, before he decides to _screw it_ and fall back onto the bed beside Theo. They glance at each other for a moment too long, and Liam quickly looks away, face burning. Theo doesn’t faze him in the slightest. Theo doesn’t faze him _at all_.

( _That’s a lie, but Liam chooses to ignore that little detail._ )

“I’m tired,” he blurts out, not wanting the silence to return. Of course, that ultimately fails because Theo doesn’t even bother answering him, as usual. “ _Theo_ , say something!”

Theo just rolls his eyes again and shuffles slightly to the left – away from Liam – and turns onto his side.

“What do you want me to say, idiot?” Liam glares at the back of Theo’s head as he speaks. “I’m not a – a speaker on demand or something.”

Liam grins, deciding it might be worth it to annoy Theo somewhat.

“Alexa,” he says loudly, “Play _Never Gonna Give You Up_ by Rick Astley.”

Theo can deny it all he wants, but the mere mention of the song gets his face to scrunch up all funny. Liam finds it amusing, how Theo’s basically the Master of Concealing Emotion but loses it because of a _song_.

A pretty annoying ~~meme~~ song, but a ~~meme~~ song all the same.

“Shut up, Liam,” Theo says instead of providing Liam with a concrete answer. “Leave me alone.”

“Wow, rude,” Liam says playfully. “You invite yourself to _my_ house and take over _my_ bed—and now you’re telling me to get out? What’s next: stealing my food?”

“Yeah, basically.” He can hear the smirk in Theo’s voice, even though his tone seems listless, maybe deadpan. “Woe is me, how ever did you figure out my villainous plan.”

Liam snickers quietly to himself, and stares at Theo for a beat longer, before falling flat on his back again.

“You know,” he says after a moment, when Theo continues to stare at the wall, “I wouldn’t mind actually sharing my food, this time. If you want to stay.”

Theo snorts. “You mean your _mother_ wouldn’t mind having me over.”

“Semantics.” Liam grins, even though he knows Theo can’t see it. A part of him wants to reach out, maybe brush a hand along the length of his shoulders – but he knows he can’t. Shouldn’t. Not if he wants to keep this.

A frown bites at his lip, if only for a moment. Whatever. It’s not like it matters.

“Liam?” He hears Theo say, uncertain if only slightly, and nearly curses himself out for actually forgetting that Theo scents things _way better_ than Liam does.

“It’s nothing,” he lies and smiles, though it doesn’t feel right on his lips. “I was just… thinking. About Corey’s camera.”

Theo finally turns to look at him, and his expression tells Liam just how much Theo trusts that statement. Still, his mouth parts a little hesitantly, before he says, “Don’t worry so much about it. It’ll turn up soon enough, probably.”

Theo’s never been cut out for comforting people. And Liam’s never been cut out for lying. But they both make do.

“Let’s go downstairs,” Liam suggests once he hears the unmistakable sound of his mother’s car. “We can ask Mom about dinner then.”

Theo looks at him like he knows something is wrong, but Liam shoves at him until he gets off the bed, incoherent grumbles leaving his throat. What does Theo know, anyway?

He’s just stupid Theo, after all.

 

* * *

 

“Any luck?” Liam asks Mason a couple of days later.

They’re both settled outside, on the porch of Liam’s house, with drinks in their hands. Liam’s drinking Gatorade – one of the blue colored ones that his mom keeps stashed for her weekend hiking trips. Mason’s drinking some bottled water, which, in Liam’s opinion, is undeniably boring.

“No.” Mason sighs. He doesn’t need to ask what Liam’s talking about – they both know. “Corey’s driving himself stir crazy about it.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Liam winces. “It’d almost be like Theo losing his truck.”

Mason looks a little strangely at him, but Liam ignores it. It’s basically Mason’s resting face anyway. And, after what happened at the studio the other day—he swallows, mouth dry at the mere thought—Mason’s been extraordinarily careful around him. It… doesn’t make Liam feel so good.

“Yeah,” Mason agrees slowly, eyebrows furrowed quizzically, “a little like that. Besides, we have barely any time to find it before the shoot.”

He lets out a bigger sigh. “And you know just how much Corey values this thing.”

“Yes,” Liam says simply, letting his head fall back. “It’s the bane of my existence, at the moment, but yes. I know.”

Mason rolls his eyes. Liam’s beginning to wonder if it’s an affliction.

“Anyway, the point is, he’s really close to ripping his hair out.” Mason looks mournfully at the lawn. “I like his hair. Preferably on his head.”

“I know you do,” Liam intones dully. Talking to Mason on chat is much easier than in real life. Liam’s almost starting to _prefer_ it, even.

Mason hesitates.

“Look, Liam,” he starts, and Liam braces himself, “I… I’m sorry.”

Liam blinks, “What?”

“About what I said the other day.” Mason clearly must be feeling guilty; he doesn’t look up at Liam once, opting to stare awkwardly at his knees instead. “That was uncalled for. And I _really_ didn’t mean it.”

It’s Liam’s turn to stare at nothing in particular. He knows this is what he ultimately wanted but he feels hollow, misplaced.

“It’s fine.” His voice sounds far away, even to him. “I was overreacting anyway. You shouldn’t be at fault for that.”

“ _No_.” Mason’s voice is surprisingly firm, and Liam starts slightly at the feel of something warm settling at his knee – Mason’s hand. “No, Liam. That was wrong of me.”

Liam doesn’t look away from the ground—there’s a crooked floorboard that’s starting to bother him.

“Yeah,” he says finally, “I guess.”

Mason looks hesitantly at him, which prompts Liam to finally look up and smile. It’s not a big one, but the fact that he can manage one at all is still good.

“Seriously,” Liam says, shaking his head, “we’re all good, okay? Don’t worry about it.”

Mason presses his lips together – a little like Lydia, now that Liam thinks about it. It makes him look both concerned and intolerant of the other person’s bullshit. “Liam—”

“ _Mason_.” Liam gives him a significant look, and sets down his Gatorade. He finally gets to his feet, stretching himself just to feel the bones of his spine crack. “Well, we’ve wasted enough time, don’t you think?”

“I guess.” Mason’s dark eyes are trained on him, unsure. Liam thinks he’s being a bit of an Idiot.

“Where have you guys looked so far?” He asks. He doesn’t want to look in those same places.

“Well,” Mason hesitates and – to Liam’s surprise – smells a little… embarrassed? “We haven’t covered much. We just combed through Corey’s house yesterday.”

Liam gapes at him. “You’ve had _three_ days, and you’ve only run through Corey’s flat?”

“I know.” Mason ducks his head. “We got a little… distracted.”

Okay. Ew. Liam did _not_ need to know that.

“So you basically want me along so I can cockblock you if you need me to,” He surmises, and the embarrassed scent coming off Mason doubles.

“No!” He denies hotly. “Three heads are better than one!”

“Uh huh.” Liam looks skeptically at him. “Sure. I believe you. Anyway, we might as well go to Corey’s house now.”

“What?” Mason’s left floundering as Liam tosses his bottle in the trash on his way to the car, “Wait – Liam – _now_?”

“You’re driving,” Is all he says in return, reaching the blue car. “Now hurry up, you look dumb just standing there.”

Mason obligingly closes his gaping mouth and, for once, does as he’s told.

Liam hides his smug smile behind a hand.

 

xx

 

 **angry growly** _has added_ **Poopy** _to the chat_

 

 

>   **angry growly:** _we’re all @ mason’s house now_
> 
> **Poopy:** _Yeah, we know_
> 
> _We’re right here. Next to you_
> 
> **angry growly:** _theoooooooooooo_
> 
> **Invisible Man:** _pretty sure theo muted the group_
> 
> _lol_
> 
> **angry growly:** _what?_
> 
> _how could he just??_
> 
> _r00d_

**Poopy** _has removed his nickname_

 

> **Mason:** _You know you could just @ him right_
> 
> **angry growly:** _damn_
> 
> _u rite_
> 
> _i knew there was a reason u were my frand_
> 
> _ @Theo where is ur butt??_
> 
> **Invisible Man:** _omg_
> 
> **angry growly:** _corey im gonna let ur inadequate vocab go because ur in mourning_
> 
> **Mason:** _jesus_
> 
> **Theo:** _That’s a big word for you, Dunbar. ‘Inadequate’? I’m shocked you’ve heard of the word, though it sums you up pretty well._
> 
> **angry growly:** _how could i forget how annoying u r_
> 
> **Theo:** _How could I forget how annoying your texting is?_
> 
> **Mason:** _That’s a mood_
> 
> **a** **ngry growly:** _wow_
> 
> _w o w_
> 
> _traitors the lot of u_
> 
> _anyway theo we need ur help_
> 
> **Theo:** _Fuck no._
> 
> **angry growly:** _but!!_
> 
> _i need someone to drive me around and stuff!!_
> 
> _i dont have a car theo u know that!!_
> 
> **Theo:** _…_
> 
> **Mason:** _You’re not really selling yourself here_
> 
> **Invisble Man:** _that’s for sure_
> 
> _sorry theo, i know you probably don’t want us to bother you_
> 
> **Theo:** _And, once again, Corey proves to be the only decent person on this chat._
> 
> _Astounding._
> 
> **angry growly:** _hey!!_
> 
> **Mason:** _Wow_
> 
> **Theo:** _¯\\_(_ _ツ)_/¯_
> 
> **angry growly:** _omg theo knows how to use emojis im???? Shook????_
> 
> _anyway r u goin 2 help or no?_
> 
> **Theo:** _No._
> 
> **Liam:** _ok then_

 

* * *

 

“So, Theo’s out of question.” Liam makes himself at home on Corey’s bed. He’s annoyed, so he doesn’t bother to check if either he or Mason have enough space for themselves. “We’ll have to do all the work ourselves.”

“Liam, we both already knew that.” Corey sighs a little, exchanging one of those weird looks with Mason again. “ _You_ were the one who insisted on getting Theo’s help.”

“Whatever.” Liam bats the veiled barb aside. It’s not like he _wants_ Theo to be here. It’s just that four heads are better than three, that’s all. “The point is, we have no idea where to look next.”

Mason stares intently at the wood of Corey’s desk, worrying his bottom lip in what Liam associates to be his Don’t-Bother-Me-I’m-Thinking face. Corey’s doing something similar, only his eyes are beginning to glaze over.

“Well,” Mason says slowly, “what do people normally do when they lose something?”

“Go to the police?” Corey offers, but Mason’s lips are beginning to turn down.

“No,” he says, eyes slowly growing wide, before suddenly getting up.

“I have an idea,” he adds at Liam’s questioning stare, making his attention divert entirely to the laptop Mason’s grabbing at. “Hold up a sec.”

Liam throws Corey a look, to which Corey replies with a shrug. Neither of them have any clue what Mason’s talking about; Liam just hopes he’ll enlighten them onto this plan of his soon.

“Here.” Mason draws up a webpage, and Liam needs to squint to be able to read it. Mason’s got to be the superhuman one if he can read at _this_ high a brightness. “When people lose things, they usually go to a lost and found!”

“Oh!” Corey’s eyes are equally wide. They’re like the Wide Eyes club now, only Liam wants to quit. “I get what you mean!”

“Yeah, but we don’t _have_ a lost and found,” Liam sighs, “where are we supposed to find it?”

“Did you not read this?” Mason gestures frantically at his laptop screen, and Liam shakes his head.

“The brightness was too high!” He argues, “I couldn’t read it even if I wanted to! Enhanced senses, remember?”

“Of course,” Mason deadpans, and Liam is too confused to feel properly insulted at the moment. “Okay, to put things simply: I remembered to check the Beacon Hills Lost and Found Facebook page.”

“We have a Lost and Found page?” Liam asks a little stupidly.

Mason lets out a long-suffering sigh, which is kind of insulting. Liam’s not _always_ this slow. Besides, it’s actually a _really_ surprising turn of events. Liam could’ve used this so much if he’d known!

“ _Yes_ Liam, we do.”

“Sweet.” He chances a glance at Corey, who’s beginning to look impatient. Liam gets where he’s coming from, to be honest. “So, do you see Corey’s camera on the list?”

“No.” Mason peruses through the page, frowning. Corey’s shoulders slump. “But, I _do_ see something else…”

“What is it?” Corey asks, pulling his knees in close.

“Oh,” Mason says in lieu of an actual answer. “ _Oh_.”

“Well?” Liam asks, nudging him a little. “What’s so special about this that’s got you ‘ _oh_ ’ing?”

“This,” Mason says simply, scrolling down the page. It takes Liam a moment, but he starts to notice what Mason’s talking about. “Usually, people either write ‘Lost’ or ‘Found’ to indicate what they’re talking about. The thing is, the last 15 posts only say ‘Lost’, which is… unusual. If you look through the timeline, ‘Found’ posts used to dominate.”

“When did it change?” Liam almost dares to hope. _Almost_.

Mason quickly tugs the laptop back to himself, Corey peering over his shoulder. The brunette’s eyes widen slowly.

“A week ago…” he breathes out.

“Around the same time Corey lost his camera. A recent development.” Mason nods, and Liam bites his lip.

“Do you think it’s a serial burglar, then?” He questions, and Mason hesitates.

“I mean, it’s reasonable to assume so,” He explains, “But I don’t really see any connection between what they stole. Not all the items that’ve been taken over the past couple of days are really valuable – stuff like keychains, and mugs, and fake necklaces.”

“Oh.” Liam frowns, but Corey looks a little optimistic all the same.

“Still,” Corey insists, “this could be a lead. Just one step closer to getting back my camera.”

Mason smiles at him softly, making Liam cringe. He almost looks to Theo to find some company in his misery – but stops short. Theo isn’t here. Theo doesn’t want to help them.

“We’ll get it back, babe, I promise.” He leans closer to Corey, and that’s about all that Liam can take. He shoots to his feet, obviously startling the two—but he doesn’t care.

“I’m going to go now,” He announces. “This is pretty significant, and we’ll meet again tomorrow so we can trace out where these thefts are happening. Maybe there’s an area or something that all these people share in common.”

“Maybe.” Mason’s got that calculative gleam in his eye; the type that sends shivers rocking down Liam’s spine. “I think I can manage to pull up some stuff tonight.”

“Good,” he says simply; then, when Corey’s gaze begins to turn a little too soft for his liking, he adds quickly, “now take me home. Please.”

Then, he hightails it out of there.

 

* * *

 

“Oh, it’s you,” are the words Theo says before he actually slams the door in Liam’s face.

Liam blinks at the old wood door once, twice, three times… before it finally sinks in.

“Oii!” He yells, hammering the door with his fist. It makes a lot of noise, but Liam can’t really find it in him to care, not when Theo decided to be an asshole and _slam the door in Liam’s face_. “Let me in, damn it! Theo! _Theo!_ ”

He can hear the stupid chimera’s stupid heartbeat thumping evenly from inside the flat. What makes things worse is the dull sound of voices – he’s got the TV running.

Liam’s eye twitches, and he can feel his claws begin to lengthen. The absolute bastard’s doing this on _purpose_.

“That’s _it_ ,” he says, voice coming out with an inhuman growl; then, he’s raking his claws over the door, gouging his marks onto it. It makes him feel more than a little satisfied – it’s like he’s claiming the place. It’s his. So is Theo, even if he is a grade A asshole.

He doesn’t really think to check if anyone’s watching, but that’s okay. This is more than a little cathartic, so it kind of makes up for it. Plus, it doesn’t take long before Theo runs to open the door, nearly meeting a face full of claws.

“Jesus _fuck_ , Liam!” He cries out, throwing up his arms. Ha, he finally understands how Liam feels, then. “First my car, and now my door?”

“You were asking for it,” Liam growls out, still seething, “pissing me off like this, _all the goddamn time_.”

“Okay, to be fair –” Theo starts, but the words quickly die in his mouth. He must see the look on Liam’s face; well, either that, or he finally learned the act of shutting up.

“Let me _in_.”

“Alright, alright.” Theo steps back in defeat – or, well, Liam would like to think of it that way – and lets him pass. “What do you want this time?”

“What do you mean ‘ _this time_ ’?” Liam frowns in slight offence, “I don’t always come here, you know! And why do you assume I want something from you?”

Theo looks at him, shirt slightly askew from where Liam’s hands have found purchase. Liam blinks lightly in surprise, but continues to hold him there, brow furrowed.

“Alright then; why _did_ you come here?” Theo sighs, not bothering to move Liam’s grip. It simultaneously pleases and infuriates him. “If this isn’t about Corey’s camera, then what?”

Liam blinks. Theo’s got him there, but he isn’t about to admit it. He doesn’t need an ego booster, not when his head’s already filled with hot air.

“I wanted to hang out,” he returns lamely, and Theo has the gall to look critically at him.

“You’ve never been a good liar, but this is just pathetic,” he says, making Liam growl warningly at him, “Oh, what – you’re going to threaten me into hanging out with you?”

“Yeah, basically.” Liam’s mostly driven by vindication, and he lets the sharp ends of his claws dig warningly into Theo’s shirt.

Theo’s eyes widen. “My shirt!”

“We can say that this is me getting revenge for the time you ruined _my_ shirt.”

“You and the Zoo.” Theo shakes his head, looking all too much like a disapproving parent. “You’re obsessed with it, aren’t you?”

“Like you aren’t.” Liam shoves him back, sensing his compliance. “ _You’re_ the one who constantly uses it as an excuse when you punch me.”

“Well…” Theo smirks and shrugs.

Liam frowns at him before tugging his shirt again.

“Let’s _go_ ,” he whines. “I’m really bored, and I don’t want to go to Corey or Mason’s because I _know_ they’re gonna be all disgusting and couple-y.”

Theo looks sullen almost immediately. Triumph courses through Liam’s veins, a little addicting.

“You see?” He tries, smothering the victorious feeling. There’s no point celebrating when Theo hasn’t even agreed yet. “I’m actually scared I might lose my mind.”

“Fine.” Theo agrees.

“And I won’t be annoying either!” Liam points out helpfully, before he freezes. “Wait… seriously?”

“Yeah.” Theo’s already grabbing his keys, “That’s why you came here, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but… I didn’t think you’d actually agree so quick,” Liam admits, still flabbergasted. Seriously, Theo’s _never_ agreed to anything this fast. “I mean, if I’d known all I had to do was pull out the Corey-and-Mason card, I would’ve done this a lot sooner.”

“Don’t even try,” Theo warns, holding the door open in an obvious gesture. Liam steps out gratefully. “I’m only coming along because I figured taking a break from work wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”

 _Work_ , of course, refers to Theo systematically browsing through the Dread Doctors’ books, scouring over their notes on different types of supernatural creatures and – in certain cases – events. Sometimes, Mason likes to join in and, occasionally, Liam stops by to bother the both of them.

Either way, it’s a boring affair.

“Good, you should.” Liam nods sagely, finding it truly miraculous that Theo’s decided to separate himself from it at all. “Those books deserve a break from you.”

Theo looks like he wants to smack him. _Ha,_ Liam smirks. Theo smacks him.

“Ow!” He complains, rubbing the back of his neck – which stings, thank you very much ~~not.~~ “That hurt!”

“That was the _point_ ,” Theo emphasizes with the extension of his claws. Liam gulps and herds Theo in the direction of his truck.

He likes being in one piece.

 

* * *

 

Driving is painful. Well, not so much painful as it is _boring_. Liam figures that means it should be _painfully_ _boring_. Which is what it is, regardless of what Theo thinks.

“It’s _not_ boring,” Theo repeats for the umpteenth time. Liam just hums disbelievingly and turns to look out at the passing scenery, and finds an old woman smacking a young man upside the head with her purse. Old people sure are terrifying. “It’s _relaxing_. It’s… it’s a comfortable silence!”

“No, it’s boring.” Liam crosses his arms petulantly, making Theo grit his teeth. Liam wonders if he’ll start to hear the sound of teeth gnashing together, if Theo does it any harder. “But, hey! You’re comfortable with me!”

Theo’s eyes grow wide, like he’s just noticed what he’s implied. Liam smirks – he’s slipping.

“That’s _not_ what I said,” Theo tries, but it’s in vain, don’t you see?

“You said it’s a comfortable silence,” Liam agrees, but Theo isn’t fooled, continuing to glance at him with narrowed eyes. “If you didn’t want to be with me, you’d call this unbearable, or even awkward! Ergo, you find _my_ presence comfortable.”

Theo purses his lips and doesn’t look at him.

“Just admit it.” Liam nudges his shoulder, and is it his imagination or is Theo _blushing_? Oh, _oh_ , he _is_. “You totally like me.”

“You’re bearable at the most.” Theo sighs and, in the World’s Most Obvious Attempt at Changing the Subject, questions, “what do _you_ want to do then, since you’re _so good_ at complaining?”

Liam grins broadly, and Theo looks like he regrets asking. But, honestly, he doesn’t have anything outlandish this time! Just something Theo might want to hit him for.

 

( _then again, Theo wants to hit him for many, many things_ )

 

“Well…” he drawls, “I was hoping we could go to the woods.”

Theo frowns. “The woods? Why would you want to –”

He cuts himself off.

“ _No_.”

“Why not?” Liam whines. “It’ll be fun!”

“ _No_ ,” Theo stresses again, gripping the steering tight. Liam wonders how he’s never ripped it free yet. “No, Liam, I’m not going to transform to play with you or whatever.”

“Why not?”

“You’re really pulling out all the stops on vocab today, aren’t you?” Theo deadpans, but Liam pays the barb no mind.

“You aren’t answering my question,” he huffs out, annoyed. “Would it really kill you to just – just run around a bit?”

“For _your_ amusement, yes,” Theo answers flatly, and Liam quickly grows tired of them continuing to speak in circles.

With a growl, he catches Theo’s attention.

“I don’t suppose you’ll miss the rest of this seat, then?” He moves his fingers threateningly close to the leather, and Theo’s jaw all but drops. “After all, I’ve _already_ taken some of it for myself. It wouldn’t hurt to catch myself some more foam.”

Needless to say, Liam gets his way. They drive all the way out to the preserve, Theo parking his car with an angry set of gear-changes and sliding out immediately after to shuck off his clothes. Liam doesn’t look, instead dawdling on the other side of the vehicle.

Okay, so maybe he looks a _little_ bit—picks out the faint smatter of moles along the back of his neck. But only because it’s distracting, and obviously that’s all Theo’s fault.

“Well?” Theo asks, when he sees Liam continue to stare. “I know you’re enjoying the view, but you could at least _pretend_ to be a little embarrassed.”

“I’m not staring at you,” Liam denies, then looks away abashedly.

“Right.” Theo rolls his eyes – Liam doesn’t need to look to know _that_ – and chucks his clothes at the back of Liam’s head. “You can look now.”

By the time Liam turns, a black wolf is crouched near the ground, tail wagging playfully at him. While this would normally be cute, Liam is aware that it means Theo’s probably laughing at him, which: _unfair_. Liam hasn’t done anything this time for this unwarranted behavior!

“You’re rude,” he tells the wolf after bundling Theo’s clothes into his arms, and squats to pet him roughly. Theo whines, butting his head to Liam’s palm aggressively, as though telling him to fuck off. “See? You’re only proving my point.”

This stops the angry motions, and Theo manages to level a flat stare at Liam, even as a wolf, before trotting off in the direction of the forest.

“Okay, I _guess_ I’ll stay here then, thanks for asking!” Liam calls sarcastically, pointedly ignoring the fact that this was his idea in the first place.

Theo doesn’t bother stopping to even look back, confident in the knowledge that Liam _would_ , in fact, be following him. With an angry huff, Liam takes off after the running shape, muscles tensing familiarly as Theo’s pace picks up.

That’s how he wants to play it? Fine by him.

 

* * *

 

In retrospect, running after a wolf was probably a dumb idea, Liam figures. Not that he couldn’t catch up – technically, he _could_ because, y’know, advanced senses and muscle things and stuff – it’s just… he most likely looked ridiculous.

Theo tells him Liam’s _being_ ridiculous.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

Those. Exact. Words. Liam swears it’s annoying.

“No, I’m not!” He argues, as they make their way to a tiny creak. It’s mostly dry, with a couple of sad trickles sloping their way down to where the two of them are standing. “It’s easy for you to say— _you_ haven’t lost face with half the population.”

“Liam, we’re literally the only two people here,” Theo snorts derisively, hiding behind a tree at Liam’s insistence. “Pass me my clothes.”

“R-Right.” Liam’s face isn’t flaming. It isn’t. He tosses a pair of jeans into Theo’s outstretched hand, mentally cheering himself on when it hits the mark. “But, anyway, the point is: that was a stupid idea.”

“Preaching to the choir,” Theo hums under his breath; the rustle of clothes accompanies it, makes Liam grit his teeth at how effortless he’s made even _that_ seem. Theo probably belongs in a YA novel, at this point.

“Shut,” Liam says belatedly, chucking Theo’s shirt at him; but, not before Theo already meanders out into the open. It would be a lie to say that the sunlight kisses Theo’s abs as he moves, because it’s almost dark out. But Liam thinks it’s definitely possible; there’s a lot of material to work with there.

“Nice,” Theo counters, with a smirk, before he moves to join Liam. “Have you ever considered trying _not_ to win a losing argument?”

“Rude,” Liam says, then debates, “well, it’s not really my fault. Every time I see you, my mouth can’t stop itself.”

Theo looks at him oddly but says nothing else.

“What?” Liam feels strangely perturbed by the sudden silence.

“Nothing,” Theo says, the weird look in his eyes evaporating, “I was just surprised at how idiotic you sound.”

Liam bristles, and Theo ‘casually’ edges away.

“Anyway,” Theo continues, “I hope you’re satisfied with yourself. We’ve wasted an entire day playing Chase the Tail.”

“Chase the Tail was _your_ idea,” Liam says pointedly. “Seriously, you were the only one who could even play. I just sat back and watched you run in circles.”

Theo’s cheeks color the slightest bit at that, and the sight makes Liam’s chest tighten.

“That’s absurdly cute,” He thinks to himself in a fit of weakness and doesn’t think much of it when Theo freezes in place. “Well? Are you gonna drag your feet anymore?”

Theo continues to look at him with wide eyes, and Liam cocks an eyebrow, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“Well?” He repeats.

Theo looks at him for a beat longer, before shaking his head.

“As if,” he says, though his voice comes out a little strangled at first. “You _wish_ I’d drag my feet if only to stay here longer.”

Liam snorts. Coming from Theo, that’s pretty weak.

“Whatever,” he remarks, cracking his knuckles impressively as they break through the trees, out into the area they parked ~~their~~ Theo’s truck. “Let’s just go home dude, I’m starving.”

“I hate to admit it, but yeah, me too.” Theo confesses, wiggling out his car keys. “Do you want to—”

Liam never finds out what Theo wants to say after that, because Theo stops speaking, stops _moving_. He’s entirely frozen in place.

“Theo?” Liam asks cautiously, warning bells beginning to chime under his skin when he can actually _scent_ Theo— _Theo Raeken_ , author of How to Never Disclose Your Emotions for Dummies. A strange mix of fear and anger radiate through him, making Liam shut his eyes because it’s _intense_.

When Theo doesn’t answer him, Liam’s eyes slowly follow his line of sight, his frame beginning to tremble because _what could it be, what’s gotten Theo this way—_

He stops short, eyes growing wide.

Theo’s truck stands in the middle of the clearing, where they’ve left it. Its blue coat is clean and polished, the way they’ve left it. What’s new, however, is the wall of tiny, 5-inch men surrounding the vehicle.

Liam repeats: _5-inch men_.

Some of them are milling about the inside of the truck, peeking out through the half-opened windows, while others stomp around in the trunk.

This… can’t be real.

“This can’t be real,” he whispers stutteringly at Theo, eyes sliding back to him, “This isn’t—”

He cuts himself off, eyes fixating on the slow clench of Theo’s muscles. His rage is palatable, coming off him in _waves_ and nearly drowning Liam in its stench. This is _not good_.

Theo lets out a low growl.

Scratch that: this is _very bad_.

“Theo,” Liam starts, voice a low murmur, “Theo, calm down.”

“They’re _on my truck_ ,” Theo says, like that’s the main problem here and not those things’ general existence.

“I know,” Liam soothes, mouth tasting sour because of how _hypocritical_ he’s being right now. Liam is literally the last person who should be telling _anyone_ to calm down. “I know, we’ll go and get rid of them, okay?”

Theo doesn’t answer him verbally, so Liam takes a huge gamble and lets his hand rest on Theo’s shoulder. The very last thing either of them need is to overreact.

“It’ll be fine,” he repeats. “Let me take care of them.”

No answer is forthcoming, but Theo _does_ relax by a tiny fraction—which Liam takes as a win, all things considering. Crisis averted, he turns to size up the enemy.

Analysis concluded: tiny.

“Um…” Liam figures he probably shouldn’t have volunteered. “Hello? Tiny… leprechaun men?”

The hustle and bustle immediately cease and, in unison, about 50 or so heads turn to look at Liam with wide, unblinking eyes.

“Uh…” That’s super creepy, “Well, um, my friend here would… really appreciate it if you could leave now? That’s to say, the truck.”

The things—Liam decides to call them leprechauns, for simplicity’s sake— continue to stare at him.

“So yeah,” He concludes lamely.

The leprechauns all turn to each other, seeming to converse silently and, within the blink of an eye, they’ve disappeared. Which is great!

Theo makes a choked noise, stumbling forward.

“My _truck_!” He near wails, voice even cracking. “My fucking _truck_ , Liam!”

Alright, so it isn’t really _that_ great. The leprechauns have disappeared, but so has the truck, which is an…unfortunate side effect.

“Yeah.” Liam’s voice dies in the back of his throat when Theo turns venomous eyes onto him. “I tried?”

“Oh yeah?” Theo hisses out, stalking towards Liam with the grace of a predator. “Care to explain how exactly you _tried_? Because it sure as hell didn’t look that way to me.”

His claws rip out into the air, and this is honestly the _last_ place Liam wants to be right now _help_.

“L-Let’s calm down, yeah?” He chuckles nervously.

Theo doesn’t stop.

“Calm down?” He repeats, eerily quiet. Liam’s never seen his eyes look so cold. “Well, the last time I listened to you, my fucking _truck disappeared_. So excuse me if calming down is literally the _last_ thing on my mind.”

“That wasn’t my fault though!” Liam squeaks, throat dry. “You _saw_ those leprechauns!”

“Yeah, I did, and they left with my _truck_ ,” Theo emphasizes with a growl. Liam feels like they’re starting to go in circles.

Time for a change of subject.

“We need to find them,” He declares, intending to throw Theo off. “They’ve probably stolen all those things people were putting up on the Facebook page.”

Liam just barely fights the urge to pump a fist in the air as Theo now sports a look of puzzlement. “We have a Facebook page?”

“Yeah, didn’t you know?” He shrugs, slipping his hands coolly into his pockets. “Anyways, do you have any ideas on how to get out of here?”

Theo glares at him balefully, making him tense up, before the look softens into something like tired exasperation.

“Whatever,” Theo murmurs quietly, raising his voice, “well, I can turn into a wolf.”

“Yeah, and I can’t,” Liam huffs, crossing his arms. Theo can be _so_ inconsiderate, sometimes.

“My point exactly,” Theo smirks at him.

Scratch that: Theo’s inconsiderate _all the time_.

“I hate you.” Liam mutters petulantly, “Get us _out_ of here, or so help me _god_ —”

“Don’t you have a phone?” Theo interrupts rudely. “Mine was in my truck before it got _whooshed_ out, but you should still have yours.”

Liam blinks, and checks his pockets. He does _not_ curse when Theo ends up being right.

“Well, what do you know?” He smiles weakly, holding up his phone.

Theo looks cross. “Call Mason and tell him to be ready. I’m going to find those tiny fuckers if it’s the _last_ thing I do.”

Ready for _what_ , exactly, is something Liam’s unaware of, but he wisely chooses not to press the issue. He’s just glad, he surmises as he waits for Mason to pick up his phone, that Theo’s on their side, now.

 

(He’ll never admit it, though.)

 

* * *

 

“They did _what_?” Mason gawks at them through the rear-view mirror, eyes decidedly _not_ on the road like they should be. “You’re joking.”

“No,” Liam answers tiredly in place of Theo, who looks close to tearing apart his seat by his teeth, “That actually happened. There were tiny leprechauns all over the truck, and then they all disappeared.”

“ _Intense_ ,” Mason breathes out.

Theo glares.

“I – I MEAN,” Mason clears his throat, backtracking quickly, “that’s _terrible_. Oh, gosh, that’s… horrible, really.”

“You know I can scent you, right?” Theo raises an eyebrow, voice level. “You can’t hide from me, Mason.”

“Uh, right.” Mason looks away, eyes finding the road for the first time, “Theo’s general creepiness aside, what’s the plan? Liam told me to ‘be ready’—whatever that means.”

“We’re going to hunt those _things_ down,” Theo snarls, fury rolling off him in waves. “And if I can kill them, I’d be most obliged; Liam?”

It takes a moment for him to get what Theo’s trying to ask, and he quickly shakes his head.

“No!” He protests, “Scott’ll kill me if we kill them!”

“Something about that sentence seems entirely wrong,” Mason mutters, the traitor, and Theo sighs in agreement. “Anyway, Corey’s out. He’s a little preoccupied with the fashion shoot and stuff.”

Liam stares. “How is he busy without his camera? That’s, like, the entire point.”

“Don’t ask me.” Mason makes a face. “I personally thought it best not to… uh, bother him very much.”

“He’s in a rage, then?” Theo asks dryly, picking at a loose thread on the seat. Liam’s a little afraid that he might tear it apart soon. “He used to have those, way back. He got a hell of a lot better at managing his off-moods though.”

“Yeah, well,” Mason’s mouth twists at the reminder of Corey’s time with the Dread Doctors. Liam’s heart twists up too, as he imagines, against his will, Theo having to do similar things. “Either way, he’s not gonna be able to help.”

“Who can, though?” Liam wonders quietly, brow dropping in concentration. “I don’t know what those things were – and all I can tell you is that they were tiny, reaching till my ankle, maybe.”

“They were really quiet too,” Theo picks up, making Liam glance at him in surprise. “Sneaky, I guess. And we think they like to steal stuff.”

“There are _so many things_ that could fit the bill,” Mason grouses, fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “There’s no way I’d be able to narrow it down.”

They’re at a dead end.

Liam wracks his mind desperately for something, _anything_ , that could possibly help them. Mason won’t be able to work with broad details like these, that’s for sure. But, then, is there someone else who could identify creatures with such a bare, minimal description?

Liam’s eyes fly wide open. It’s _so obvious_ he could hit himself.

“ _Deaton_ ,” he exhales slowly, and Theo looks at him like he’s struck gold.

Mason inhales sharply.

“Shit, _yes_ , that’s a good idea. Great, perfect,” he agrees quickly, “D’you think he’s in town?”

Liam shakes his head in answer.

“Call him then,” Theo growls out, and Liam’s a little annoyed that it didn’t occur to him to do that first. Still, he obliges, quickly fishing out his phone from his pocket.

“Honestly, Mason should be the one to call him!” He argues, dialing the vet anyway. “They’re the ones who talk to each other more than the rest of us.”

Mason squawks indignantly in the background, but Liam pays him no mind, quickly setting the phone on speaker and listening to each ring with a hopeful heart.

“Please pick up,” He prays desperately out loud, and Theo scoffs. Liam just shoots him a glare in response – Theo’s always so rude.

“Yes, because that’ll _totally_ help,” Theo rolls his eyes.

Liam frowns. “It’s the principle of the thing, okay? You wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh, you’ve finally moved onto the big words now, huh?”

“Shut the hell up, Raeken.”

The phone continues to ring, and Liam can listen to it in peace, now that Theo’s actually listened to him. If only he were always this obedient.

“Life hates us,” Mason says finally as the phone lets out one last, mournful ring before an automated voice redirects them to voicemail. “Uh, who’s doing the voicemail?”

“Not it!” Liam says quickly. Mason and Theo stare at him like he’s stupid but, hey, at least he doesn’t have to awkward ramble at no one.

“I’ll do it,” Mason sighs, plucking the phone from Liam’s outstretched fingers, and pulling the car over to the side of the road. Safety first. “Hey Deaton, it’s me…”

Liam sort of tunes him out after that. Besides, he has something much more interesting to look at.

Theo notices him staring and raises a brow.

“What,” Theo deadpans, the word not even coming out as a question. “Stop staring at me.”

“I’m not staring!” Liam defends. ‘Staring’ is such an unpleasant word. “I was looking outside the window. The scenery’s great.”

Theo looks at him skeptically, but he’s a bit dumb so Liam thinks he’ll believe it.

“Do you really think I’m that stupid?” Theo growls at him lowly, and it makes goosebumps prickle across Liam’s arms. “I _know_ you’re staring, Dunbar.”

“Prove it, Raeken.” Liam crosses his arms smugly, knowing he’s won the argument.

“Guys,” Mason’s the only reason they haven’t devolved into a fistfight, and Liam doesn’t know whether to feel gratified or annoyed at him for it, “Deaton says he’ll be back tomorrow. Till then, I guess we’ve just got to wait.”

Liam groans.

“How long will it take for Corey to decimate us if we don’t find the thing in time?” He asks Mason conversationally, “Because I happen to enjoy my head where it is…”

“Stop being dramatic.” Mason rolls his eyes, though Liam’s pretty sure he isn’t imagining the sudden pallor of his cheeks. “He’ll… everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

“Geez, I sure do hope so,” Theo says exaggeratedly with a sickly sweet grin stretching his lips, “I’d hate it if he found out exactly _why_ finding his camera took so long.”

Liam turns to him in affront.

“Hey!” He protests, “That _wasn’t_ my fault, for the last time! It’s not my fault you couldn’t keep an eye on your truck – you had _one_ job.”

“Oh boy,” Mason mutters under his breath, but neither of them pay him any mind.

“One job?” Theo repeats, not bothering to hide his disbelief, “One fucking – are you fucking serious right now? _You_ were the one who wanted me to play with you, you idiot! Every time I so much as _looked_ away, you’d start whining like a baby—and you’re telling me I had _one job_?”

Theo’s eyes are steadily deepening into the familiar shade of gold dust that Liam wishes he couldn’t recognize. His fangs are slowly dropping as well, sharp and deadly, and Liam figures he should fix this mess, at least temporarily, if Mason’s meant to keep his car in tiptop shape.

He inhales sharply, and looks Theo in the eye: “Basically, yeah.”

Theo nearly _roars_ at him and, at that moment, Liam realizes….

He fucked up.

 

* * *

 

Mason drops them off at Liam’s house, looking at least a decade older.

On the bright side, Theo’s nursing his jaw, which blooms a beautiful shade of red, and glaring at Liam. Liam’s not any better himself, getting a broken nose this time, but he’s still pretty satisfied.

“You guys need to sort… whatever this is between you!” Mason nearly yells through the rolled window. “It’s starting to get annoying Liam, I swear to _god_.”

“Why me?” Liam balks and, okay, that was probably not a good first reaction. Mason seems to agree, judging from the tick of his jaw. Liam quickly backtracks. “Theo – I mean, we’ll, uh, figure it out. Yeah.”

Theo gives him a—in Liam’s opinion—rather nasty glare. Liam, to his credit, doesn’t even flinch.

After waving a still-irate Mason off, they turn as one to trek back to the house. Now that it’s just the two of them, Liam feels a little… off. Iffy. With Mason around, Theo seemed to actually be controlling his anger, but now that he’s not…

“Get in.” Theo holds the door open, muscles stiff. Liam didn’t even notice him getting out the key from the bird perch. Man, he’s really been out of it. More importantly, he sees that glint in Theo’s eye: _danger_.

Liam wisely bites the inside of his cheek, deciding not to say anything, not when Theo’s so clearly on the edge. Yeah, he likes to annoy him – but Liam values himself too!

Sometimes.

The door slams shut behind them, and Liam winces, irritation quickly flaring up.

“Dude, what’re you trying to do?” He glares. “You’re being snottier than usual – and that’s saying something!”

Theo stares back at him unflinchingly. “Do you seriously need to _ask_ me that?”

“ _Yes_!” Liam wants to pull his hair out by the roots, at this point. “Why the hell would I ask you if I—”

“My _truck_ is missing!” Theo roars, hand smashing into Liam’s shoulder—inevitably forcing him against the wall. His shoulder throbs dully, but he’s more preoccupied trying not to drown, with how Theo’s literally _spitting_ in his face. “What could _possibly_ be the reason – oh, I don’t fucking _know_ , Liam!”

This isn’t really funny anymore, and Liam’s _tired_ of letting Theo stomp around throwing tantrums like a child. Liam gets it – he understands the anger, the burning need to rip loose and let it all out – but Theo should know better. Theo _isn’t_ Liam, and that’s the whole point.

“It’s just a truck!” He yells, shoving back at Theo. The chimera’s eyes flare as he growls, but that doesn’t really faze him. “Jesus Christ, Theo, _we’ll get it back_. What’s the big deal?”

“What’s the big _deal_? Are you _seriously_ fucking asking me that?!” The anger that seemed to be bolstering on seems to disappear all too suddenly, and Theo sags against the opposite wall, slumping to the ground with a tired sigh. Liam watches him cautiously from his part of the wall.

The older boy runs a hand through his hair and grips at it. “There’s a lot wrong with it, Liam, but I don’t expect you to understand.”

“What?” Liam feels seriously insulted right now. He might not be the smartest guy around, but he doesn’t trust Theo to be the judge of that. Inhaling deeply, he settles down too. “Actually, try me.”

It feels slightly awkward, being in this position; this is absolutely the _last_ thing Liam would do on a good day (and trust him, he’s _definitely_ pissed Theo off more than this) but there’s just something in the way that Theo holds himself – exhausted and forlorn – that… tugs at him, in a way. Theo’s not supposed to be like this.

Yuck. Even if all of that’s true, it’s mostly disgusting. Liam can’t deal with the mush, but he guesses he can make an exception for Theo.

“You’re being ridiculous.” Theo shakes his head, but there’s no strength in his voice, no inflections in his tone that suggest him being anywhere _near_ okay. “Just let it be.”

“No.” Liam crosses his arms. “I _won’t_.”

Theo stares at him for a moment longer, before sighing angrily and pushing his palms against his knees, like he’s going to get up.

Oh _hell_ no. Not on Liam’s watch.

“Don’t!” He says urgently, hand shooting out to grab at Theo’s before he can move. Liam’s got All the Moves. “Seriously, it’s clearly bothering you, and I keep… messing up, and I guess… I don’t want to?”

Theo stares at him like he doesn’t understand. Liam barely withholds an annoyed noise; honestly, he can’t _possibly_ get any clearer than this.

“So you want to avoid pissing me off?” Theo summarizes inaccurately, but Liam wants him to shut up and talk to him about the heart of the matter so he nods. “Okay.”

“And?”

“And…” Theo visibly hesitates, and that’s new. Theo never _visibly_ does anything but judge – mockingly. “Look, that truck’s all I had, alright? It was the only thing keeping me off the literal streets and now it’s gone.”

_Oh._

“Oh.” Liam says a little stupidly.

“Yeah.” Theo lets out a little snort, but it feels all wrong. The bitter chuckle that follows makes it worse. “It’s dumb, I know.”

“No, it’s not!” Unthinkingly, Liam grabs Theo’s wrist—it’s warm and nice and soft, but that’s not important and Liam _really_ doesn’t care. “I mean – I can’t relate, but that doesn’t make it _dumb_.”

“Wow, you’re _so_ good at this.” Theo says snidely, and Liam is immediately filled with the urge to deck him in the face.

“I’m _trying_ , okay?” He glares, muttering under his breath – too quiet for Theo to hear, “At least I’m doing that much, unlike a stupid jerk I know.”

Theo’s eyes narrow, and Liam briefly considers the thought that, perhaps, he wasn’t as quiet as he thought. But he isn’t afraid, this time.

See, Theo is… Theo’s a _lot_ of things, and a fatass liar to boot – but his eyes betray everything he’s _really_ feeling. It’s a neat little trick Liam’s picked up through trial and error— with a _huge_ emphasis on error—and, so, he uses it to his advantage.

Right now, Theo’s body language _screams_ of anger—muscles locked, jaw tense, shoulders still, teeth showing—but his eyes seem glazed, more distant. Almost profoundly sad.

Damn. Liam should really go into poetry.

“I can tell you’re sad, okay?” He doesn’t think, clambering onto his knees to reach out a hand once more. Theo starts when it brushes his shoulder, but eventually relaxes into the touch—and Liam’s heart flips weirdly. Probably out of disgust.

His cheeks pink.

Definitely out of disgust.

“I’m an Unfeeling Chimera of Doom,” Theo points out dryly, and Liam barely holds back a reflexive blanche, “Isn’t that what _you_ said, Little Wolf?”

“Maybe,” Liam admits, “but that was a joke! A _joke_ , you weren’t supposed to take it _seriously_!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I should’ve known _exactly_ what you meant. My bad.” Theo moves to push Liam’s hand off, but he only grips his shoulder tighter, unwilling to let go.

(Theo’s warm, okay? Also, he really needs to get this point across.)

“You never take anything I say seriously anyway!” Liam tries to defend himself, and he and Theo are practically in each other’s faces right now, “What’s so different about this?”

“On the contrary, I take _everything_ you say seriously,” Theo growls out, then freezes up. Liam manages to catch a scent, and that’s shocking enough. What’s _more so_ , is exactly _what_ that scent belies: nervousness, sorrow and the tiniest hint of anger.

“Theo…” Liam breathes out, because he didn’t know what to say before, and he _definitely_ doesn’t know what to say now. Things are spinning out of control more than usual, and _Liam doesn’t know what to say._

So, he _does_ something instead.

His heart must be beating a mile a minute—Theo’s face is scrunching up almost comically, no doubt because he can hear it—but Liam ignores the blood rushing to his head and takes the chimera’s hand in his own. It’s warm, and a little rough – but, still, softer than he’d expect.

N-Not that it matters!

(It really does.)

“Liam?” Theo’s voice sounds strange, and Liam forces himself to look him in the eye. He can _feel_ the tension lining his muscles, and it feels like he’s doing the exact opposite of what he meant to. “What…?”

“I just…” Liam swallows ( _when did it become so difficult?_ ) but holds on, squeezing his hand. “We’ll get your truck back, okay? We’ll get it back.”

And it’s a testament to how torn up Theo must be about the whole thing, because he doesn’t bite out a sarcastic jab, or snarl at Liam like he usually does.

Instead, he gives a nearly imperceptible squeeze back.

 

* * *

 

 

> **angry growly:** _theos in!!!_
> 
> **Mason:** _wait, seriously?_
> 
> **angry growly:** _…yes???? y would i joke????_
> 
> **Invisible Man:** _it’s not that you could be joking_
> 
> _it’s just… theo saying yes to u?? fat chance._
> 
> **angry growly:** _wow_
> 
> _dick move, Bryant_
> 
> _ur last one, if i have anything to say about it_
> 
> **Mason:** _oh boy_
> 
> **angry growly:** _also, theo’s a piece of shit_
> 
> _but he still agreed, so ha_
> 
> **Theo:** _I’m a little offended, Little Wolf_
> 
> _And here I even got my hopes up when you held my hand_
> 
> _Guess we were never meant to be, huh?_
> 
>   **angry growly:** _ah fuck_
> 
> **Mason:** _WAIT WHAT_
> 
> _GUYS WHAT_
> 
> _SHIT_
> 
> _WHAT????_
> 
> _HAND HOLDING?!?!?!?!?_
> 
> **Invisible Man:** _damn liam!!! uve got game!!!!!_
> 
> **angry growly:** _fuck_
> 
> _uhhhh bye_

 

* * *

 

His phone continues to buzz violently, even after he chucks it at his bed. He can’t get the damn buzzing out of his head, even when he plugs his ears with cotton. Stupid enhanced senses.

His cheeks burn as he remembers, distinctively, holding Theo’s hand in the hallway; the comfortable silence that blanketed the both of them. He remembers the softness of Theo’s shirt as it brushed against his skin and hates that he wishes he could feel it again. He remembers the warmth of Theo’s hand clasped in his, the way Theo would occasionally run his thumb along Liam’s knuckles like he was _trying to fucking kill him_.

He doesn’t _want_ to remember. He doesn’t even want to think about it!

“You sure you want to avoid them? It makes you look guilty.”

Too bad he never gets what he wants.

“ _Yes_.” Liam answers defiantly, swiveling around in his chair as Theo drops his phone onto the bed, “Nothing even happened! They’re just making a big deal out of nothing!”

“That was _nothing_ to you?” Theo inquires, smile a little sharp, and Liam freezes up. “You’re really doing quite well for yourself today.”

“I mean – it wasn’t _nothing_ , just – just nothing _they_ need to lose their shit over.” Liam stumbles through his explanation, and the only thing that makes him feel the slightest bit better is Theo’s low chuckle.

“If you say so, Little Wolf.”

Liam narrows his eyes. “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

Theo grins at him, all teeth and fake radiance. “Oh, nothing. Well – nothing you need to worry your pretty little head over.”

And, before Liam can even _think_ of a way to respond to that without shitting himself, Theo swings his legs off the bed, sauntering to the door.

“I’ll see you later then, Dunbar.” The corner of Theo’s mouth quirks up, and Liam hates that his eyes have decided to narrow onto _that_ , of all things.

“Bye,” he intends to say in return, albeit a little stupidly, hand poised to wave him goodbye.

Theo leaves before he can, and Liam’s just left behind with his hand half-raised in the air.

“Fucker,” he spits out, knowing Theo can hear – and the amused snort he hears as the door slams shut basically confirms it. Theo doesn’t say anything back, but Liam can hear his footsteps as he walks from Liam’s house—all the way home.

The faintest curl of guilt coils in his gut. Maybe _Liam’s_ the reason Theo’s truck disappeared in the first place. He can’t pretend to understand the connection Theo has to it, but he guesses it’d be similar to him losing … to him losing—

Well, whatever. The point is: they have to fix this. They _have_ to. Liam doesn’t think he can stand having to see Theo’s expression crumple like that again, scenting the _sadness_ and _fear_ radiating off him.

“Those stupid midgets are going to _pay_ ,” he vows quietly to himself, fists clenching. He doesn’t stop to think why it matters so much to him, why his heart beats so rapidly against his chest when he remembers the warmth of Theo’s hand in his.

He definitely doesn’t think about why his chest lit on fire when Theo called him pretty.

 

* * *

 

“So.” Mason rolls down his window the next day, nodding at Liam. For once, Corey’s taken shotgun, and Liam doesn’t even need to look to know Theo’s probably lounging in the backseat. “Hand holding.”

Liam rolls his eyes. “Can you at least let me get in car first?”

The _click_ of the lock is a relief to hear, and he wastes no time in sliding into the car, slamming the door shut behind him. Theo’s _right there_ when he looks up from fastening his seat belt, eyebrow cocked at the ready.

“What?” Liam grinds out hesitantly, nerves prickling. Theo had _better_ not be a total asshole right now, so help him—

“The boy asked you a question.” Theo gestures at Mason in his typical I’m-a-shitty-Jock fashion, and it makes Liam _really_ want to punch him.

He reluctantly relaxes his fists.

“We’re not that much younger than you, Theo,” Corey sighs, but Liam sees his eyes light up anyway. “But yes. Hand holding?”

“You too, Corey?” He grouses as Mason fails to hold back a snort at his expense. “And why’re you guys asking _me_ of all people? Theo’s right here!”

“Yeah, but…” Mason purses his lips, communicating with his eyes _exactly_ what Theo thought of that question.

“I can’t believe this.” Liam throws his hands up as the car races along, “I give you my friendship in return for _this_ treatment?! Unbelievable.”

“Choose your friends wisely next time, then.” Theo shrugs.

“I didn’t choose them,” Liam points out stubbornly, making the two in the front squawk indignantly.

And, well, that makes this whole thing a little more bearable. Except, you know, the part where the Mason and Corey constantly try to spring the question on him randomly, like _that’s_ going to make him answer instinctively or something.

It’s not. Liam won’t let it.

“What’re you covering your mouth for?” Theo looks far too amused for his liking. “Stop that.”

Then he actually reaches over and uncovers Liam’s mouth _for_ him—and Liam might or might not _meep_.

“There, that’s better isn’t it?” Theo sends him a questioning look when Liam freezes up, unable to move after that blatant _attack_ to his heart.

“Liam?” Corey notices too, and Liam can _see_ Mason’s smug eyes without even looking. “Is everything alright?”

“Uh huh.” Liam manages to croak out, throat suddenly too tight. Why aren’t they at Deaton’s yet? The clinic can’t possibly be _this_ far.

Theo looks at him a little strangely but, surprisingly, lets it slide, turning to face out the window instead. Liam watches him for a little longer, a part of him feeling strangely cold when he doesn’t feel the warmth of Theo’s gaze on him anymore.

…This isn’t funny anymore.

“We’re here!” Mason announces, voice too cheerful for Liam’s taste. There’s nothing _remotely_ cheerful about this.

“Let’s go.” Theo’s mouth is set in a hard line, none of the smooth lines left from before, and Liam vaguely feels the slightest bit upset about it—but then he shakes it off.

It doesn’t matter to him. Pfffft, Theo? Theo’s _moods_? They mean nothing.

Oh god.

Oh _god_.

Liam doesn’t even want to entertain the thought but—

_Oh god._

Liam feels something strange wiggle in his chest when he sees the outline of Theo’s back through the car, Corey’s blurred figure quickly catching up to him.

“Liam? You coming out, dude?” Mason asks quietly, eyes serious, intense. It’s at times like this that Liam remembers, with overwhelming fondness, why he still keeps Mason around. He’s usually a jerk, yeah— but a soft-hearted one when it counts.

“Yeah,” Liam’s legs refuse to move, though. Is he in shock? He just might be.

It’s not every day that you come to an intense self-realization that maybe— just _maybe_ — you’re falling in love with your—

No. Liam _isn’t_ going to think about it. It just – just doesn’t make _sense_.

“Yeah,” He repeats again, opening the car door and stumbling out. It’s way too sunny outside for this. Liam’s mood right now would best be represented by something a little more dramatic like, say, a hurricane. With thunder and lightning for some extra flair. “Let’s go.”

Theo and Corey are already conversing with Deaton is low tones, and Liam doesn’t even try to use his enhanced hearing to figure out what they’re saying. He doesn’t… want to hear Theo’s voice right now.

Fuck.

“So what’s our diagnosis, doc?” Mason queries with a bright grin. When he sees the incredulous looks on everyone’s faces, the smile falters. “Uh, right. Not gonna do that again.”

Deaton just sighs and lays out a map with two areas circled in red. Liam focuses on it, steadfastly ignoring his jabbering thoughts in favor of something that’s obviously much more important.

“These creatures you seek may be occupying these two areas,” Deaton begins in his usual low drawl. Liam’s always found his manner of speech annoying, to be honest—they aren’t in the Middle Ages or something!

“Right,” Theo says, crossing his arms, narrowing his eyes.

“And, uh, who _are_ these creatures?” Liam wants to know. He feels like that might be important. Just a tiny bit.

“I can’t say for certain.” Deaton clasps his hands, making eye contact. Damn it, how’s he so good at making people uncomfortable? “From the descriptions Theo has given me, I can narrow our choices down to two myths.”

“Oh boy,” Corey mutters. Liam gets _exactly_ what he means. “What is it this time? Cousins of the Ghost Riders? Leprechauns?”

The two options are a little too far apart, Liam thinks.

“No,” Deaton ignores the sarcastic jab—seriously, the man has to be superhuman because he’s _never_ lost his cool so far—and answers patiently, “they could identify themselves to be either the Welsh _cablynau_ or the Cornish Knockers—Tommyknockers, as they’re called in these parts.”

“Cobble _what_?” Liam squints at Deaton.

Deaton doesn’t look as composed as before, so Liam takes his compliments back. Actually, for the most part, Deaton looks like he just wants to throw his hands up and quit.

“Cablynau,” he corrects calmly—because Deaton is nothing if not calm. “Miniature, benevolent spirits.”

After a pause, he repeats, “It must be either them or the Cornish Knockers who are responsible for these... thefts.”

“Doesn’t seem very benevolent to me,” Theo snorts bitterly. Liam agrees, but silently because Theo doesn’t deserve the satisfaction after what he did.

“Yes, well,” Deaton looks slightly discomfited, “most spirits are, by nature, quite generous. However, they _do_ expect a modicum of respect in return. If they feel they have not _received_ that respect…”

“They lose their shit,” Mason sums up.

“Precisely. They take what they feel most hold closest to their hearts—which is why even smaller items have been reported missing.” Deaton nods, looking slightly happier now. Of course he’d be—he’s totally whipped for Mason at this point. Maybe because they’re both the only Supernatural Nerds this town has left.

Either way, it doesn’t matter because Corey has his Thinking Face on.

“So how exactly are we supposed to tackle them?” Corey leans forward, elbows knocking lightly into the table. He’s looking more bony than usual, Liam realizes. Is it because of his camera?

A tiny, hidden part of Liam feels guilty about his blasé attitude from before.

“I mean, they’re pretty tiny, from what Theo tells us,” Mason agrees easily, sending Corey a pathetic, love-struck smile. “We can’t technically nab them like that.”

Deaton smiles that annoying, mysterious smile of his.

“You do not need to fight them,” he says ominously, and Liam finds himself growing more and more on edge as the silence drags on. What do they have to do? A blood sacrifice? Swear off the internet? “You need only to feed them.”

Wait…what?

Liam must’ve heard that wrong.

Y-Yeah, it was just – just his imagination.

He looks instinctively for Theo, finds the same incredulity in his eyes—those _pretty, hazel green eyes_ —and immediately rips his gaze away. He can’t… can’t let Theo find out, not if he wants to actually live in this town for the next century.

“Did you just say… _feed_?” Theo’s voice drips with disdain. “You’re joking, right? You want us to _give_ things to those little devils when all they do is _rob_ people?”

Amen to that, brother. Wait, no. Not brother. nOt bROtHeR.

“Yes,” Deaton answers simply, crossing his arms. “If you wish for them to return your belongings, you must provide them with food.”

“Wha – _why_?” Mason’s brows are furrowed, confusion quickly filling his face.

“These spirits have been here for decades,” Deaton begins, and Liam has to pinch himself to stay awake. _Here we go_. “They are thought to have migrated here during the Gold Rush—”

Hold the phone, Liam’s actually _very_ interested, now.

“You said they were Welsh or Cornish!” He realizes, eyes growing wide. He _gets_ it now! “Cornish miners were called in during the Gold Rush because they were skilled at their jobs – and people obviously wanted to dig up as much gold as they could. They worked primarily in mines most of their lives anyway.”

Then, his mouth drops open. “Those two circles on the map… those are _mines_ , aren’t they? You think these spirits came here _with_ them!”

“There are mines in Beacon Hills?” Mason murmurs himself with a puzzled frown. Corey’s just staring at Liam in thinly-veiled surprise, and Theo…

Theo fucking _smiles_ at him, and Liam feels like he could probably die happy, right this instant. Damn these stupid Feelings.

“Precisely.” Deaton looks mildly impressed. “Do you also know what a Cornish miner’s basic diet consisted of?”

“Yeah.” Liam nods, eager to show off some more ( _not because he likes the smile on Theo’s face or anything, pish posh_ ). “Mostly pasties. Uh, spiced meat and potato wrapped up in something that’s kind of like a pastry? I read that sometimes, to be as economic as possible, they’d also add some kind of mixture made of apple too?”

Liam’s cheeks warm a little when he catches the look in Theo’s eyes—something in between fondness and _pride_. No one’s ever been proud of him for this, before.

He also notices the completely baffled expression on Corey’s face, and loses whatever little bashfulness he was feeling at that moment.

“What?” Liam glares at him, “I like history.”

 

* * *

 

“Look,” Liam starts, frowning as his Pack bustles around the kitchen, setting ingredients on the pristine, _spotless_ countertop, “I know I said we should start as soon as possible, but I didn’t mean _today_. And I most definitely did _not_ mean in _my_ house!”

“Su casa es mi casa.” Theo shrugs, setting down the meat as he completely butchers ( _heh_ ) the phrase. “Besides, you’re the only person I know who has shit like ‘chuck steak’ lying around.”

“You know my oven’s pretty much dead, and Corey doesn’t ever cook,” Mason adds pointedly, and Liam wants to yell at them for daring to use logic against him like this. “Relax, okay? Nothing’s going to happen to your kitchen.”

Just then, a plume of smoke rises up from beneath Corey’s feet. Or, hold on…

Liam narrows his eyes.

That’s not smoke at all.

“Did you seriously just drop _pepper_ all over my floor?!” He roars, chest heaving as he struggles to keep himself in check. They’re lucky his mom’s not home, or things would _not_ be good. She _loves_ this kitchen.

“I’m sorry!” Corey squeaks.

“Corey,” Theo looks at him like he’s a disgrace— _and he is_ , “how do you spill pepper when it’s _in_ a _bottle_?”

“…I take back what I just said,” Mason sighs out, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We’re totally screwed, aren’t we?”

“No, we’re not,” Liam says determinedly, feeling nothing but pity for the poor fools who believed they could cook. “Mason—get out the flour. I want you to measure out 3½ cups of that and add 1½ teaspoons of salt to it. Don’t forget to mix it well.”

“I – yeah, okay,” Mason says quickly, hurrying to the shelf to get out the flour. Liam ignores Theo’s pensive gaze in favor of biting his lip as he tries to figure out what on earth he can ask him and Corey to do.

“Corey—could you, uh, grease the baking sheets? Lightly. And then line them with parchment.” Liam gestures at the necessary materials, _just_ to make sure Corey uses them right, before turning to Theo.

“You get to help me with chopping.” he says decisively. “And when I say chopping, I actually mean getting me the stuff I need to chop.”

Theo’s eyebrows fly up, but he doesn’t protest. “Yes sir.”

 _That_ makes Liam flush, and he catches sight of Theo’s amused smirk as he turns to the fridge, “What can I get for you?”

“Get me the steak, first,” Liam decides. “Then, the potatoes and rutabaga.”

“Rutabaga?” Theo looks a little lost, and Liam sighs. “It looks like a radish fused with an onion.”

“Got it.”

Liam takes the knife in hand, getting to work quickly cutting the steak into cubes, followed by the rutabaga; then, he slices up the potatoes and starts chopping the onions.

“I’m gonna take a quick break!” He hears Corey call and grunts in affirmation, more preoccupied with dicing the onions quickly so that he doesn’t tear up.

“You’ve got quite the skill set, it seems.” Theo’s voice is smooth, deeper than usual. Liam’s cheeks are _not_ on fire. “What other hidden talents do you have, Dunbar?”

“Wouldn’t you like to find out, Raeken?” He shoots back, pausing in his work to rub at his eyes lightly with his arm; odd, he even soaked the onions before so they wouldn’t make him tear up. “Ah fuck.”

“Need some help there?” Theo sounds amused. Liam can’t see him because of the tears currently blurring his vision, but he’s 100% positive there’s a smirk on those stupid lips of his. “Hold on a second.”

He freezes up entirely when he feels Theo’s hand cradle his jaw, fingers wiping gingerly at his wet cheeks and working their way up to his damp lashes. He’s pretty sure his heart must be seizing up in his chest—it certainly feels that way—and _how is Theo not hearing this_?

“There you go.” Theo’s voice is devoid of amusement now, charged with something else entirely, and since Liam can finally blink without crying, all he can see are the rings of Theo’s irises standing out against the brilliant green.

His mouth is sandpaper dry and he can’t get out any words—not that he can think of them in the first place—and the only thought that loops around his brain in dizzying circles is _he’s so close, he’s so close, he’s so close_ —

Theo’s nostrils flare, suddenly.

“Do you smell something?” He asks slowly, moving away and Liam can’t help the disappointment welling up in his chest at the lack of proximity. That’s quickly wiped from his mind when he realizes what Theo’s talking about.

“Yeah, like something’s burning.” He frowns, looking instinctively at the stove, “But there’s nothing that needs the stove— _fuck_ , why is the pot on fire?!”

“Oh _shit_!” Mason suddenly cries, stumbling away from the stove, eyes wide and breathing harried. “L-Liam, the stove’s on fire!”

“ _Yes_ Mason, I noticed!” Liam yells back, “How the fuck did you guys manage to even _do_ this?!”

“That’s not important right now,” Theo says calmly—a little _too_ calmly, Liam thinks hysterically— as he walks over to the _flaming stove_ and turns down the knob. “Mason, get me some salt.”

“Salt?” Liam asks, trembling a little because _does Theo know what he’s doing?_ Liam doesn’t know how to fix _fires_.

“Yeah,” Theo answers, grabbing the box from Mason’s shaking fingers and dumping the salt all over the fire. “I would’ve asked for baking soda, but it’s not always effective. To put it simply, salt absorbs heat faster than the grease can create it. So, douse it in just enough, and… we’re all good.”

The fire’s put out, and Theo sets the box down and turns around, arms crossed impressively. Liam’s a little impressed at how he can Nerd and Jock, all at once.

“Speaking of which,” Theo continues impassively, looking over Liam’s shoulder, “ _why_ exactly were you using grease, Corey?”

“I – uh—” Corey looks a little close to hyperventilating, “L-Liam asked me to grease the paper?”

“Oh my god.” Liam drops his head into his hands. “Of course. Oh my god. Corey,” he looks up, now, at the pale boy, “when I asked you to grease the baking paper, I meant to rub it with _butter_. Not with literal _oil_.”

“Oh.” Corey mumbles, looking down at his feet.

“You’re an idiot.” Liam informs him bluntly, but quickly backtracks when he feels the heat of Mason’s glare, “Th-that is to say… _I’m_ the idiot!”

 _For trusting you to do one job in the first place!_ He screeches internally.

“I’ll do the rest on my own,” Liam ultimately decides. “The rest of you can – can watch TV or something. _Without_ breaking anything, if that’s possible.”

“Coming from you, that says a _lot_.” Theo mutters, and coughs politely when Liam glowers at him, “I’ll stay here. With you.”

“Okay.” Liam agrees easily, though his brain screams at _thE WORDING LIAM, THE WORDING!_

“Yeah.” Mason’s eyes flit shiftily between the two of them, and Liam just stares blankly at him in response, unwilling to give anything away. _There’s nothing to give away in the first place, damn it_. “We’ll be... in the living room. Uh, living.”

Theo snorts as Mason and Corey make a run for it. “Idiots.”

Liam side-eyes him pretty hard, and Theo cuffs him gently over the head.

“That was unnecessary,” Liam points out, though his skin burns hot as he remembers the ghost of Theo’s touch to his cheeks.

“No, I wouldn’t say it was.” Theo gives him a knowing look, but it goes as fast as it comes, and he’s lounging on the dining chair like he owns it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Liam mutters, huffing. When Theo doesn’t answer, he adds, “asshole.”

“Now you’re just trying to pick a fight.” Theo rolls his eyes, and whatever fondness Liam _might_ have had (keyword: _might_ ) has evaporated by now. ‘Hurry up and chop whatever you need to.”

“You don’t need to patronize me.” Liam narrows his eyes and gets the dough from the counter. “And I’m done chopping!”

 _So, ha_.

“Yes, impressive,” Theo remarks dryly, shaking his head. “Honestly, you’re such a child.”

“Am not!” Liam protests, rolling the dough into balls, and carefully adding in the filling. “You take that back!”

Liam doesn’t even need to _look_ to know that Theo’s expression has collapsed into sheer annoyance. When no answer’s forthcoming, he sighs, “C’mere and help me, asshole.”

“That wasn’t very polite.” Theo points out, though he sidles up to the counter anyway because _that’s_ how awesome Liam’s persuasive skills are. “What do you need me to do?”

“Roll the dough into balls,” Liam demonstrates, just to make sure Theo _actually_ knows what he’s doing and doesn’t screw everything up. “Just that one job. You’d better not mess up.”

“Coming from you, I find that laughable,” Theo audibly mutters, and Liam’s _so done_ with this little shit.

They… work surprisingly efficiently—Theo getting the dough rolled out nice and easy, and Liam scooping in the filling and crimping it closed—and manage to get all the pastries into the oven in little to no time.

“Alright,” Theo _finally_ finishes washing his hands—and Liam _really_ wants to make fun of him for the extensive care he put into cleaning out his fingernails—and turns to face him, “what’s next, Wonder Boy?”

Liam grimaces. “Okay, I _know_ I said I hated Little Wolf, but this is worse.”

“Is it now, Wonder Boy?” There’s a smirk in Theo’s voice.

“ _So much worse_.”

“What’re you going to do about that?” Theo raises an eyebrow, cocky and assured as always. It pisses Liam off, makes him want to rip that smug little smile from his lips.

Oops, he’s getting a little violent there.

“I don’t know.” He washes his hands _much_ faster than Theo, thank you very much. “What do _you_ want?”

And _oh_ , _that sounds suggestive_. Liam didn’t really think very hard about what he was saying, but now that it’s sunk in, he’s—

Well. A little mortified, actually.

Theo’s smile only grows, though, and Liam can’t bring himself to understand _why_ he’s brought this upon himself. The only explanation to this, of course, is that the universe Hates him, which – no, Not Cool.

“You blush a lot, don’t you?” Theo pushes himself off the counter, taking two steps in Liam’s direction. _Yes_ , he counted, and _yes_ —he, maybe, takes two steps back to compensate. “That’s cute.”

“Shut up,” he snaps out—or well, he means to, but his throat must’ve died or something because it comes out more like a whisper than anything remotely commanding. Theo looks totally in his element; but, then again, it’s Theo—when has he ever _not_ been?

“Yeah, real effective there.” Theo rolls his eyes, before making for the door. “Anyway, I’m going to go outside for a bit. You be a good boy and watch the oven, okay?”

And he leaves. Just like that. Like he hasn’t just strung the tattered remains of Liam’s brain above his very eyes. Like he hasn’t just entirely _fucked Liam up_.

…not that he did, just—

Oh, who’s he kidding.

“Trouble in paradise?” Mason smirks when Liam trudges to the living room. “Your face is _super_ red, by the way.”

“Oh my god,” Liam mutters, before his eyes find the TV and—oh _great_ —of _course_ they’re watching the Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers. In _Liam’s house_. Liam’s house is a sacred space, okay? Not for shit like that!

He settles down on the couch anyway, grateful that Corey’s too busy snoring on the floor to lock lips with Mason.

“Where’s Tommy?” He wants to know.

“Zedd got him,” Mason informs him, eyes trained on the television, “So shut up and let me see how the others rescue him.”

 

* * *

 

It’s only when the timer rings that Liam realizes Theo hasn’t come back in yet.

“Don’t tell me he ran off somewhere,” Liam grouses, slipping on his oven mitts. Mason hums idly next to him, drawing shapes into the countertop with some spare flour when he thinks Liam isn’t looking. “Honestly, I gave him _one_ job.”

He’s saying that a lot, he knows. But seriously, he’s _surrounded_ by idiots – all the time!

“Yeah, and he finished it before heading out,” Mason answers, totally relaxed—which Liam resents, by the way. It’s probably because Corey’s still passed out. “Have you called him? We might as well get on with it.”

Ah. Right. The “offering-pasties-to-the-Not-leprechauns” thing they’ve got going.

“I kinda want to keep these for myself though.” Liam frowns, pulling the tray out of the oven and setting it down. “They—”

“No,” Mason deadpans.

“But they smell—”

“ _No_.”

Liam glares at him and gets out the Tupperware reluctantly. Mason’s honestly such a spoilsport—the name _Poopy_ suits him well.

He doesn’t say that out loud though, knowing it’ll just get him hit, and Liam’s hair does not deserve that.

“Go wake Corey up,” he grunts instead, sulkily opening the containers and placing the pasties inside carefully. “He’s going to take an hour to get up anyway.”

Mason side-eyes him pretty hard. “…I hate that I can’t deny that, dumbass.”

Liam grins smugly, despite the ( _totally immature!_ ) name-calling. He knows he isn’t a dumbass anyway.

Then Mason leaves, and it’s just Liam in his lonesome; he nearly burns his fingers getting the pasties into the containers before he realizes he could just leave them out for a while, since they need to cool anyway. Ugh.

…alright, so maybe Liam’s a _bit_ of a dumbass. But he’s a very lovable one, and that’s what counts!

Corey eventually trudges into the kitchen, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. His hair’s all mussed up, sticking out this way and that – like a crow’s nest. If crows like nests that soft—do they? Do crows even _have_ nests?

He’s broken away from his train of thought when Corey fumbles with one of the boxes of pasties.

“Get your _paws_ off my food!” He cries indignantly, cradling the two boxes close to his chest. He worked _really_ hard on these—no thanks to Corey. “They’re not meant for _you_!”

“Geez, I just woke up,” Corey mumbles half-heartedly, shoulders slumping. “I’m _hungry_ , Liam.”

“There’s cereal in that corner,” Liam points, still cuddling the boxes protectively. “Eat _that_ if you have to.”

“Stop being mean to my boyfriend, Liam.” Mason shoves lightly at his shoulder, making him scowl darkly—he didn’t even notice him coming inside. Damn it, Corey! “He doesn’t deserve that.”

“No, he deserves much, _much_ more.” Liam mutters darkly but smiles innocently at Mason’s narrowed eyes. ”Anyway, I’m gonna call Theo.”

“Yeah…” Mason looks at him weirdly and shakes his head. “Since there are two places on the map—and literally opposite sides of the town—I’m thinking we should split up.”

“Hm?” Liam pauses in tapping at his phone, and nods. “That sounds fine—you take the North, and Theo and I will take the South?”

“Sure,” Mason agrees easily. “You don’t have car, though, do you?”

“My mom lets me drive hers when she doesn’t need it.” Liam waves off the concern. “We’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.” Mason nods torpidly, before shaking his head a little. “Alright, Corey and I are going to head out then. Give me one of the boxes.”

Liam does, in the midst of typing an irate message to (his) idiot chimera involving the gratuitous use of exclamation points and capital letters, with _maybe_ a couple of choice words thrown in. Maybe.

“Don’t let Corey eat them,” he says absently, sending Theo another stream of messages. Why isn’t he _reading_ them? “Bye.”

He’s dimly aware of Mason convincing Corey that they need to leave now— _“you can eat the cereal on the way, babe_ ”—attention zeroed in on his phone. Theo _still_ hasn’t read any of his messages.

Ugh, how annoying. He’s going to have to call him, isn’t he?

The phone rings and rings and _rings_ and Theo _still_ doesn’t pick up. What a hoe. Liam can’t help but feel the slightest bit of worry, though—as much as Theo supposedly hates him, he’s never outright ignored Liam’s calls. Plus, he _was_ pretty set on getting revenge for his truck, so it’s a little surprising, to say in the least, that he isn’t answering now.

Whatever.

Liam slips his phone back into his pocket with a sigh. It looks like he’s going to have to go and look for the abandoned mine all on his own.

For some reason, this feels like the start of a really bad horror movie. Liam’s going to go and poke around the ( _abandoned_ ) mine all by himself ( _because it’s abandoned_ ), wondering how many people have probably Perished there ( _after being abandoned_ ) and is probably going to end up being haunted by one of the miners’ pet rabbits or something.

And this is Beacon Hills: weirder things have happened!

So he grabs the keys off the counter, hoping his mom really _doesn’t_ need the car for the day, and saunters outside, squinting at the sun. It’s way too sunny outside for this to be a horror movie, he decides, so he’s probably in the clear. Then again, if the production of this movie were left up to Netflix or something, he’d probably still get his ass haunted.

…This isn’t helping. Neither is the little sign tacked onto the windshield of Liam’s car.

 _wE haVe iT!_ It reads lovingly in stocky children’s handwriting. Underneath the words is a scribble that looks suspiciously like a dust mite, but Liam has a feeling he knows exactly what it’s supposed to be. Well, technically: _who_.

“Oh my god,” he mutters to himself, heart quickening the slightest bit. “For fuck’s sake.”

No way. Theo wouldn’t be stupid enough for that. Theo couldn’t _possibly_ be enough of an idiot to get himself _kidnapped_ by the tiny leprechauns. _NO WAY_.

…But, he _hasn’t_ picked up his phone…

This is the only explanation.

“Theo, you’re a bitch,” he mutters under his breath— _yes_ , he _knows_ Theo isn’t going to hear him, and that’s exactly the point. Liam isn’t above a little name-calling too, y’know, even if this technically isn’t Theo’s fault. “A horrible, _traitorous_ bitch. The worst kind of bitch.”

Obviously, there’s no answer and so, with a sinking heart and feeling very much like an idiot, Liam buckles himself up and drives. The paper note may or may not be transferred to the glove compartment, so he can make fun of Theo later.

This peacefulness doesn’t last very long, though. And it’s not like Liam’s car gets attacked by a minotaur on his way to his new life or something, it’s just! Really! Boring! Without! Theo!

Words he’d never thought he’d ever admit to himself, even in his own head.

But, seriously. Normally, drives are _fun_ because he gets to annoy Theo and Theo annoys him back ( _which is a little less fun but still_ ) and they sometimes stop over for fast food when they’re not supposed to because Liam uses his puppy eyes. And they’re also fun because… well, because Liam gets to see Theo’s face _finally_ relax, gets to see his smile grow sweetly and eyes crinkle unguardedly. It’s a rare sight, and Drive Time is literally the only instance in which Liam gets to see him like that.

Gosh, he’s embarrassing _himself_ ; with all his sap, _Mason and Corey_ would be put to shame—and that’s saying something.

Liam distracts himself by letting his eyes rove over the phone, following the map as he focuses on getting himself to his destination, preferably in as little time as possible. The box of pasties is safely buckled into the passenger seat, and, yeah, he checks occasionally to make sure it hasn’t… you know, _disappeared_ or anything. Not like _Theo_ has.

 _God_.

It sucks that the mine’s so far away, though. Liam’s going to have a full half hour, still, to continue thinking about ~~how~~ Theo ~~’s missing~~ and that’s _not_ a good thing. Stupid Theo, making him worry like this. Liam doesn’t know what the leprechauns do with their victims, if they _torture_ them or just keep them lying around—speaking of which, they don’t usually even _have_ victims. And why the hell would they take _Theo_ of all people?! He’s insufferable!

 _They take what they feel most hold closest to their hearts_ , Deaton’s voice whispers into his mind and, okay, there are two things Liam has to say about this situation:

  1. yuck
  2. _holy shit_



Like… there’s absolutely no way the leprechauns took him because Liam _likes_ him. That’s ridiculous. Ludicrous. Preposterous. Liam can easily list off five things he cares about _more_ than Theo, like… like Mason! And lacrosse! And… history! And…

Okay, he’s running out of fuel here. But cut him some slack! He’s only just realized that he… that he _like_ - _likes_ Theo, so going on to say that he holds him _closest to his heart_ is really going _way_ too fast. It’s like – like skipping dating and just getting hitched instead! Like in those crappy Hollywood flicks about Vegas that Mason totally enjoys, even though he denies it.

Seriously, Liam would know. He’s toiled through them enough times to be an expert. Fun fact: Mason is an ugly crier.

Alright, it’s not much of a _fun fact_ so much as it is a _fact_ — a sad one. But Liam is _trying_ positivity, so give him a little credit!

Either way, ranting in his head ends up being a good thing, because he gets to the mine a _lot_ faster. Or, well, it feels that way, at the very least, and that’s good enough for him.

He parks at the edge of a low-lying cliff that overlooks the mine. There’s something that looks like a train track that leads into the darkness of the mine, with a poorly constructed wooden arch serving as the entrance.

Liam observes it from a distance, feeling a shiver run up his spine the longer he looks at the darkness. And _no_ , Liam’s not scared of the dark and he’s _especially_ not scared of the leprechauns… but it’s just. Mines. People dead.

… _ghosts_.

And sure, Liam might’ve battled some of the craziest shit to date, including but not limited to the Ghost Riders, but that doesn’t mean he wants to get his ass haunted looking for Corey’s stupid _camera_.

Then, he remembers Theo might be in there, and grits his teeth.

“I can do this,” he tells himself, like that makes his stupid decision any better. “I’ve got this.”

 

* * *

 

Okay, so, maybe Liam _hasn’t_ got this.

It takes him nearly ten minutes to figure out how on _earth_ he’s supposed to get down to the mine entrance without cracking open his neck somehow and his legs are aching by the time he finally does. Theo… probably wouldn’t be very impressed.

He wonders if there’s a minecart or something nearby. He’s played enough of those phone app games to know that there’s usually one lying around, and he hopes it’ll actually make traversing into an abandoned mine, with nothing but his wits, a little _fun_.

But, of course, after scrounging around desperately, he comes to the conclusion: there is no cart. He’s going to have to walk down there.

See, this wouldn’t be so bad, except Liam’s a little scared, okay? And there’s no way to tell if those midgets are even down there, so all of this could be for nothing. But… he has no other choice.

Liam grips onto his box of pasties as he slowly walks inside, squinting a little at the ground so he doesn’t trip over a wayward pebble. Or a rock, maybe even a boulder. These mines haven’t been accessed in a _long_ time, so everything’s pretty shaky.

Seriously: he’s a kid! He shouldn’t have to constantly throw himself into dangerous, life-threatening situations like this! But, then again, this is Beacon Hills; everything’s pretty blurred, here.

Liam unconsciously shivers, hugging the box close to his chest like it’ll warm him up. It won’t, but he’d rather pretend, because at least _that_ gives him some semblance of comfort.

“This isn’t too bad,” he says to himself, optimism raising its fragile wings. Those wings are immediately torn to shreds when the world is swept from beneath his feet, stinging pain erupting in his knees.

Of course. Liam’s managed to trip over nothing. He’s not even surprised at this point by his stupidity.

“Goddamn it,” he hisses when he sees his fingers come back sticky with blood. “Stupid Theo, making me deal with this shit.”

He conveniently remembers, then, that he has a phone. Since his phone isn’t pre-historic, like Scott’s is, it also has a built-in flashlight.

His knees look horrific under the artificial light, but he ignores them, knowing the skin will heal. He’s pretty proud when he manages to stand without them immediately buckling underneath his weight, and takes slow, measured steps forward.

On a whim, he bobs his head along to _If I Had a Hammer_. Hey, just because he’s walking into mortal peril doesn’t mean he can’t do it with style!

Privately, Liam thinks this is Totally Stiles’ Fault.

He doesn’t know how long he spends walking, how many songs on his playlist he goes through. They’re a welcome distraction from the fact that, y’know, _Liam’s totally in the dark_ —literally. He wonders what Theo’s up to, right now. Maybe he’s running away from the leprechauns or something, because there’s no way anyone could restrain someone like _Theo Raeken_.

Speaking of which…

“Footprints!” He says, brightly, then remembers that there’s no one around to hear him. Right.

There are dusty footprints diverging from the rails—normal sized ones, belonging to a human— and Liam nearly trips over one of the metal beams as he makes to cross over to the other side. He’s already had one Near Death Experience—he _really_ doesn’t need another, no matter what Theo might have to say without it.

And he’s thinking about Theo again. Great. Liam is absolutely _not_ a lovesick girl or anything, he’s just! Just that he’s—

 _Lowkey in like (love????) with the Big Bad Chimera of Doom? Highkey over his head?_ Take your pick. Either way, Liam’s decided he hates character development.

Right now, though, he has bigger fish to fry. The footsteps that he’s followed end abruptly—which would be fine, if they didn’t stop right in front of the wall. Could the person have hopped back onto the rail line?

Liam chances a glance behind him and concludes that _no, it’s too far_. But, where on earth did those footsteps go? Could it be that they’re dealing with something like _teleportation_?

“Theo!” He calls, just for the heck of it. “Hey asshole, are you even down here?!”

He fully doesn’t expect a reply which is why, when he hears something faint, something that sounds unmistakably like a _human voice_ , he balks.

“ _If I’m the asshole, what does that make you, Dunbar?!_ ”

He must be imagining Theo’s voice. Obviously, that’s what’s going on here. No way Theo’s voice would come from the damn wall, or something.

…would it?

Liam inches forward, feeling entirely foolish as he reaches out a hand to press it against the wall.

“Theo?” He ventures quietly, breath catching in his throat as he leans his weight into the palm of his hand, fully intending to make contact with cold stone, only to—

Only to trip over his feet and phase _right through the wall_.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out, entirely swept away by how _cool_ this is—an entire secret section camouflaged by a wall? This is the kind of shit you only see in movies! “Theo!”

Lo and behold, Theo Raeken, ass plopped down on the dusty ground. His hands are cuffed by what looks like bent metal and, more importantly, his expression is nearly comical; eyebrows flown high, eyes nearly popping out of their sockets, and lips parted ever-so-slightly.

Liam’s actually a little impressed; he’s got the Shocked look down to a pat.

Then, his countenance rapidly changes, eyebrows furrowing, eyes crinkling, lips twisting into a snarl.

“You absolute _idiot_!”

Okay, so now Liam’s a little hurt. This is _not_ the kind of reception he expected to receive; he… might have been hoping for Theo to be a little grateful, with stars in his eyes and a dopey smile on his lips. It’d be a good look for him, too; it’s not like Liam’s being _completely_ unfair.

“I came looking for you!” Liam protests, a pout most definitely _not_ forming on his lips. “ _Theo,_ you could stand to be a little more appreciative!”

Theo looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel. Liam doesn’t recommend that, to be honest. He’d like it if they got out of something _without_ bleeding, for once.

His stinging knees scream of their betrayal.

“Appreciative?” Theo chuckles a little manically, and Liam gulps. “I’m supposed to _appreciative_? Of what? The fact that you’ve walked into the midgets’ layer?”

“I can always just walk back out again,” Liam threatens.

Theo shakes his head with a rueful smile. “No, you can’t. Once you find your way in, you can’t get out—that’s exactly what they wanted.”

“They?” Liam’s mouth quirks in puzzlement.

Theo sighs, and _that’s_ when Liam finally notices. He couldn’t see it before, in the darkness of the cave, but there are a hundred or so eyes firmly trained on him. Everywhere he looks, the eyes are all he can see, menacing and narrowed.

“Oh,” Liam manages weakly.

Theo laughs a little helplessly, the sound grating on Liam’s ears. “Yeah.”

“Well, that’s fine, because I have _these_.” Liam untucks the box from his chest, holding it up.

What’s the etiquette for sacrifices again? Liam tries to wrack his brain for something, _anything_ , that could possibly help, but comes up short.

So, he just drops to his knees, eyes fixed firmly to the ground, and holds the box above his head like he’s prostrating before an emperor or something. Or like he’s proposing. You get the idea.

“Um, I have returned, bearing a gift!” He yells and, for once, completely feels in sync with Theo, who’s wearing the most beautiful expression of _what-the-actual-$#@!_ to ever exist. “The town of Beacon Hills relays its condolences in offending you and hopes to earn your forgiveness through this offering!”

He’s literally pulling words out of his ass, at this point. Liam’s actually a little grateful he paid some attention during English class—who would’ve thought it’d come in handy?

Low murmurs erupt across the crowd and Liam notices, with dismay, that he’s actually trembling in place, the coarse sand digging into his torn knees. He’ll be fine. _They’ll_ be fine.

Liam chances a glance at Theo, who gives him a weak glare and a nod in response. That probably means he’s still a little pissed, but actually believes in what Liam’s doing. That he’s on board.

Liam’s unable to help the slight warmth in his chest at the thought, relief coursing through him. Theo believing in him stirs up this feeling that… has a rather addictive quality to it.

A hush falls over the room as tiny footsteps sound out, and Liam doesn’t look up, a bit afraid, to be honest. He doesn’t want to offend them, not when Theo’s in this very room, cuffed and helpless.

Okay, so _helpless_ might be a bit of a stretch. In all the time Liam’s known him, Theo’s _never_ been helpless—but, the point still stands.

In the end, though, it doesn’t really matter whether Liam’s looked up or not, because he ends up looking at the damn leprechaun anyways. The midget comes to stand right next to Liam’s knees, and he has no choice, really.

This must be the leader, Liam thinks to himself; he’s dressed a little obnoxiously, green cape lined with fur, green waistcoat, green trousers and what look to be miniature dress shoes. What’s worse—the entire ensemble is _velvet_.

Liam internally shudder. _So much velvet_.

The leprechaun’s pudgy face peers up at him with suspicion, and Liam stares right back. It might be offensive if he looks away, right? He doesn’t really know how meetings with annoying spirits normally work.

“I am Kenver!” He squeaks out as an introduction, before pointing his tiny hand at Theo. “You came for your precious?”

“Y-Yes,” Liam stutters out, heart pounding loudly in his ears. He doesn’t want to look at Theo, not even to make fun of the serious Gollum impersonation the leprechaun’s got going for him.

The leprechaun— _Kenver_ , Liam corrects mentally—gives him a nod, followed by an appraising look.

“What did you bring?” He demands, pointing at the box in Liam’s hands. “Put it down!”

“Uh, yeah, s-sure.” Liam puts it down quickly, heart in his throat.

“Open!”

Liam opens the box, feeling entirely stupid for listening to a creature that’s literally the size of his pinky.

Kenver has to stand on his tiptoes to look into the box, and the grumpy expression on his face slowly changes, turning to barely concealed delight.

He spins around, hoisting his scepter into the air. “Treasure!”

Raucous cheers erupt from all over the cave, nearly deafening, to Liam’s sensitive ears. When he looks at Theo, he sees the chimera grimace; it figures he’d have it worse, given that Theo can pick up on sound better than he can.

Liam wishes he could just shut them up.

The cheers eventually die down, and McPudge Lord turns back to Liam, tapping the emerald gem of his scepter against his knee.

“We are pleased,” his prepubescent voice announces boldly, and Liam can’t hold back his sigh of relief. “It has been many years since we had treasure! Yours will be returned to you by sunset.”

“Thank you,” Liam breathes out shakily. “Could Theo—I mean, could I take my treasure with me now?”

Liam has to hold himself back from wincing at every traitorous word that leaves his mouth. Theo’s _never_ going to let this one go, is he?

Kenver looks at him sternly, before giving a sharp nod.

“Release the precious!” He commands, and the metal twined around Theo’s wrists melts away. Liam quickly makes his way to him, securing his wrists in his grip in case Theo gets any ideas about ripping the creatures to shreds.

“Don’t,” he says curtly, keeping his voice low. “We don’t need to offend them anymore.”

Theo looks like he seriously disagrees with Liam’s (correct) opinion, but backs down anyway, wrists falling limp in his hands.

“You’re the expert, I guess,” Theo mutters, with the barest hint of a smile on his face.

“I am,” Liam assures him, even though he’s really not. “Just trust me!”

“I trusted you last time and look where that got us.” Theo’s obviously just arguing for the sake of it, so Liam just shakes his head at him and turns to where Kenver is, surrounded by his… entourage? Subjects?

“Would it be alright if we left now?” Liam tries to maintain a polite tone, even though all he wants to do is haul Theo over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and make a break for it.

“Yes! Yes!” Kenver nods. “My brothers and sisters thank you for the offering! Come back next year too!”

“We’ll do that!” Liam laughs nervously and tugs at Theo’s hand to get him moving. Theo, luckily, stays quiet and lets Liam take the lead, following him through the wall and up the tracks.

“So…” Theo starts, after a moment of silence, “your precious?”

Liam’s cheeks burst into flame. Wait, no, scratch that: _Liam_ bursts into flame.

“It wasn’t my fault!” He argues hotly, still not looking at Theo as he drags him along. “They misunderstood! They’re like a billion little Gollums, except slightly less creepy! And besides, _they_ were the ones who called you my precious, not _me_.”

“It’s okay to admit it, you know~” Theo singsongs annoyingly, and Liam grits his teeth. “C’mon, Dunbar, you totally love me.”

“No, I don’t.” The heat begins to creep up Liam’s neck too. This is bad, this is _so bad_ ; Theo can’t know about this, or he’d never stop making fun of Liam!

And… and he might stop talking to Liam entirely, too. Liam’s selfish in that he wants Theo to stick around—and admitting it, even to himself, is like swallowing a rock.

“You sure about that?” Liam doesn’t need to look to know that Theo’s familiar smirk—the one that never fails to drive Liam crazy— is fixed firmly in place. “It seems like you’re really just denying yourself—”

“Okay, fine, they were _right_!” Liam’s voice echoes through the tunnels, but he doesn’t even care, functioning on pure frustration. Whirling around, he yanks his hand free and jabs Theo in the chest, so caught up in his head that he doesn’t even care about how firm it feels under his touch, how Theo’s heartbeats pulses so strongly his touch. “Is that what you wanted to hear? That I… that, for some _stupid_ reason, I actually _care_ about you? That I can’t stand the thought of you not being around, of not wanting to talk to me anymore? Because yeah, it’s true! And – and you can hate me all you want for it, but that’s just how it is, so back the _fuck_ off, Theo.”

His chest heaves as he struggles for air and his face must be red, from yelling so hard. His hands tremble as he curls his fingers into his palms, trying not to let his nails sharpen and draw blood, trying not to let his fangs drop, trying not to lose control and become a monster and—

And Theo just steps forward and cradles Liam’s cheeks in his hands, gentle and easy. It’s dark, in the tunnels, but even through his swimming vision, Liam can make out the flecks of brown in Theo’s clear green eyes.

“Look at me,” Theo commands, and it’s not like Liam could possibly do anything else, not with Theo’s face _this close_. “Liam, look at me; you need to _calm down_.”

“I – I can’t,” He struggles to say, words coming out in gasping breaths, “Theo, I c-can’t—”

Theo makes a soft sound in the back of his throat, so uncharacteristic that it’s all Liam can focus on. The callouses of his fingers feel good against his heated skin, and Liam lets out something suspiciously close to a sob.

“I’ve got you,” Theo tells him steadily, not letting go even when Liam’s hands curl desperately around his arms. His nails must be digging into his skin, but Theo doesn’t even make a noise, waiting patiently as Liam struggles to draw in air, strangled sounds leaving his throat; Theo waits for Liam even though he doesn’t have to.

“Are you feeling a little better now?” Theo asks eventually, voice still muted. Liam’s face burns with embarrassment at having a near breakdown in front of Theo after that embarrassing confession—and it’s like all his worst fears have come to light.

Only, Theo isn’t leaving.

“Y-Yeah,” Liam croaks out.

“Good,” Theo says firmly, before his voice softens a tad, “I just… you’re more of an idiot than I thought, Liam.”

Liam’s head shoots up, and he manages a weak glare. Theo just rolls his eyes at him.

“You could’ve just told me all this, you know.” Liam’s knees are trembling, and he’s surprised they don’t buckle up entirely under his weight. “And you definitely didn’t need to worry so much about it. I’m an asshole, but I’m not _that_ much of an asshole.”

Liam thinks that’s really up for debate.

“Besides,” Liam can sense a thin sheen of nervousness coming off Theo—which is a little unbelievable. What does _Theo_ have to be nervous about? _Liam’s_ the one who just fucked up any semblance of a friendship they might’ve had, after all. “I think I pretty much agree with you.”

Wait a damn minute.

“ _What_?” He chokes out, but Theo doesn’t say any more than that, letting go of Liam’s cheeks and going on ahead of him. “You _fucker_ , what did you just say?! Oi, _Theo_!”

Theo just laughs as he walks away, and the beginnings of an elated grin start to spread across Liam’s lips as he runs to catch up. Theo just… Theo just said…!

“You better not be dicking around, asshole!” Liam yells, as Theo looks back with a grin. “Holy fucking shit, Theo, _wait_ for me, bastard!”

“Wow, such a filthy mouth,” Theo teases, not stopping to wait, “I can’t believe I actually thought you could be _sweet_ sometimes.”

Liam’s going to keel over at the rate this is going because Theo’s _…_ Theo’s basically said _he likes him back_ and Liam’s lost all coherency at the mere thought of it.

The muscles in his legs burn as he runs to catch up with Theo, and not even the stinging protests in his knees can suppress the warmth that rises in him when Theo lets him tangle their fingers together.

If this is a dream, then Liam doesn’t want to wake up.

 

* * *

 

Unsurprisingly, everything goes entirely back to normal. The Beacon Hills Lost and Found Facebook page blows up, with almost all the ‘ _Lost_ ’ reports being marked as ‘ _Found’_. People comment on their own posts expressing their disbelief at finding their belongings right in their homes.

No one really points out how odd it is that nearly _everyone_ coincidentally found their stuff where they left them. It might just be the Beacon Hills Effect—always a classic.

Corey’s face is positively _glowing_ when Liam sees him next. His camera is clutched possessively in his hands, like a baby and—well, Liam supposes it makes sense that he’s so careful with it. If Theo went missing for that long with no one to back him up… Liam would’ve been pretty frazzled too.

Hey, there’s no shame in admitting it.

Mason, on the other hand, is as uptight as ever.

“I just want to make sure everything fits well!” He hisses out between his teeth as he measures Liam’s waist for the _one hundredth time, and that’s no exaggeration._ “This needs to be _perfect_ for Corey.”

“I dunno man, Corey seems perfectly happy to me,” Liam huffs out, gaze dropping to where Mason’s measuring his ankle. “ _Jesus_ , Mason, it’s fine! They fit me perfectly, okay? Stop worrying so much.”

He takes a deep breath: time to say some mushy shit.

“Besides, if it’s coming from you, Corey will be happy no matter what.” Liam gestures to where Corey’s watching them, a soft smile on his lips. “Look at that! He’s disgustingly in love with you, so _stop overthinking_.”

Mason eyes him pretty hard from where he’s crouched, but the expression quickly relents in place of something more pleasant. Liam inwardly breathes a sigh of relief—he didn’t think he’d manage to say it right but, considering Mason isn’t trying to choke him with his measuring tape, he’s done pretty well not to screw up.

“…Thanks, man.” Mason nods at him, a half-smile curving his lips. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… I think you’re right.”

“Hey!” Liam feels offended. “I resent that!”

Mason doesn’t even bother answering that, which— _hey, excuse you fucker_ —sucks but whatever. Liam’s been dealing with his sorry buns for ages now.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” The singular human in their group rises up and Liam bares his teeth, eyes flashing with full knowledge of the fact, “…Dude, you know that growling at me isn’t gonna scare me, right?”

“…He’s not my boyfriend, and he’s not coming today—you know that,” Liam lies sullenly, entirely ignoring Mason’s slight against his wolf. If he’s going to have a billion cons because of it, he _should_ get some pros too! That’s only _fair_! _Right?!_

“Right,” Mason nods. “You guys were holding hands yesterday just because.”

“Yeah, actually.” Liam decides to adopt a mulish expression. Much like a mule, he also decides to remain stubborn to the very end.

Luckily for Mason— who would’ve only been wasting his time with this line of questioning, _honestly_ , Liam’s the _king_ of deflecting—Corey decides to finally interact with living beings instead of a hunk of metal.

“No adjustments to make?” He asks, brushing shoulders with Mason. Liam doesn’t even feel the slightest bit nauseous.

 _Heh_.

“Not with Liam, no,” Mason answers, rapid-fire. “Theo isn’t coming in today, though, so I can’t say for sure—”

“Relax,” Corey assures him gently, though his voice is no less firm. “I have full faith in you, okay? I know you’re going to do your best for my pictures to look amazing.”

Mason’s flustered, Liam can _scent_ it—and, well, yep, that’s his cue to GTFO. Slang really does make everything easier on the mind.

“Well, _I’m_ going to go now so…bye,” he says pointedly, and walks away, not waiting for either of them to answer him. They’re probably too busy making eyes at each other to notice anyway.

A small grin stretches his lips as he pushes open the door, sunlight hitting him full force. He’s not even mad about it. The sun can go fuck itself, because Liam has exactly what he needs.

“Hey,” said object of Liam’s affection greets, pushing itself off the wall.

 

( _It’s Theo. Shocker, right! Liam nearly can’t believe it himself._ )

 

“Hey,” Liam says back, equally coolly, though his voice cracks for a bit there. He attempts to ignore it and continue to look as suave as possible.

Theo’s eyes crinkle up in the way they do when he’s trying not to smile at Liam’s expense and, okay, _wow, rude_.

“I know you were gonna laugh at me,” Liam says darkly.

“I wasn’t.” Theo eyes his hand with obvious desire.

Liam glares. “And now I know you’re lying. Liar.”

Since Liam’s feeling nice, he sticks his hand out, waiting for Theo to take it. But, even though he’s _totally and irrefutably mad at Theo (damn it!)_ it’s okay, because Theo’s hand feels warm in his, callouses scraping over Liam’s in a manner that’s almost comforting.

God, he’s really gone soft, hasn’t he? It’s only been two days!

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Liam asks, barely holding back the urge to swing their arms together as they walk to the nearest fast food chain. Theo’s truck has a couple of scratches, and he’s splurged in trying to get it a new paint job.

Liam personally thinks it’s a waste of money, but he understands Theo’s attachment to it. He… gets it, really, now that he’s found something of his own.

Damn, maybe _he_ belongs in a YA novel too! Theo can’t get _all_ the credit!

“Looking pretty for the camera?” Theo smirks that lazy smirk of his—the one where his lips are just barely curving up, and his eyes are lidded.

 _Damn it. Not fair_.

“Yes, yes, we get it, it’s gonna be a piece of cake for you. A walk in the park.” Liam totally doesn’t grump.

“I wish I could say the same for _you_ ,” Theo shrugs nonchalantly, like he hasn’t broken the boyfriend code _a million times over_.

Liam gapes at him. “Wow. _Wow_. So _this_ is how you treat your boyfriend?”

The words leave his mouth before he can filter them, and his breath hitches. Liam’s calling Theo his boyfriend in his head, but this… whatever this is, they haven’t given it a label yet. Not out loud.

Theo pauses for hardly a moment—but it’s still enough for Liam to notice, still longer than usual, to his trained eye—but shrugs and continues to speak like nothing’s ever happened. “I don’t know. I’ve never had a boyfriend, so I guess…”

He leers, and Liam distinctively feels like a caged rabbit, walls closing in. “ _You’re_ going to have to be my guinea pig. You must be honored, I’m sure.”

“Like hell I am!” Liam yells, ripping his hand from Theo’s and (totally) not missing the feeling, “Fucking walk to Jo’s by yourself, Raeken!”

“Back to last names, are we Dunbar?” That’s a laugh. That’s _definitely_ a laugh.

Liam berates himself for ever thinking Theo could be boyfriend material. Clearly, he was mistaken. Theo’s just demon spawn. That’s just how it is.

But—

...he can’t help the tiny grin on his face anyway.

 

* * *

 

“Tilt your faces a little up! Like you’re only just noticing the tallest building in the world!” Corey’s yells vague instructions as Liam’s nearly blinded by the lights for the _tenth_ _time_ in an hour. “That’s it, Theo, you’ve got it! _Liam_! You have _one fucking job_!”

Shit, why is Corey so scary?! If Liam weren’t too busy fearing for his life, he’d be crying tears of sorrow right now. Actual tears of sorrow. Or maybe he _should_ cry because he’s too _scared_ to cry because of Corey—

“ _Liam_! Stop making that face, that’s the literal _opposite_ of what I want!”

Liam gnashes his teeth together.

 _Breathe_ , he tells himself. _Just breathe, and you’ll be fine_.

“ _Liam!_ ”

“ _What?!_ ” He finally yells back, “God damn it, Corey, give me some proper directions, not whatever bullshit—”

“Whoa, easy there.” Theo’s palm slides right over Liam’s fucking mouth, and Liam wonders briefly if this is how Caesar felt in his last moments—surrounded by enemies he thought were friends. “You know the feeling after one of your lacrosse games? It’s been a long game, but you’ve been toughing it out till the very end—until you get that perfect chance and the game is in _your_ hands—and you get that perfect five-hole?”

Theo’s hand has fallen away from his face, but Liam hardly notices, mouth stretching into a lazy smile while his eyes drift upwards.

“Yeah,” he breathes out a little drowsily. He can feel the wind sifting through his sweaty hair, the grass damp beneath his feet and the sky overhead painted a soulful blue. _Victory_ , his mind chants at him, and it’s a feeling he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget.

“ _Yesssss…._ ” he dimly hears Corey hiss, too caught up in the rush to react. The lights flash, but Liam hardly notices, more preoccupied with imagining what it’ll feel like to run, grip firm around his lacrosse stick, in a victory lap, to scent vicious happiness.

“You did good,” Theo pats his head condescendingly, and _that_ breaks Liam out of it. “I didn’t think you’d act all high because of it, but whatever works, I guess.”

Liam’s cheeks erupt into raging infernos.

“Shut up, bastard,” he mumbles grouchily, glaring lightly at Theo. The pleasant sensation has all but evaporated, now.

Theo’s lips form a familiar smirk, and he looks unfairly in his element like this, back to the wall, nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with Liam. In comparison, Liam feels very much like a gutter rat—and he should look nearly identical to Theo, since they’re wearing similar clothes!

If the walls were wooden, Liam _wood_ ’ve gouged the wood from the sheer intensity of needing to keep his raging feelings in check. Pun totally and unapologetically intended.

The ivy stretching down the white brick wall could match Theo’s eyes, Liam thinks—they’re nearly the same pretty shade of green, equally grounding. His hand’s pressed against the wall, the shadows from the creeper cast prettily over his skin and twining together with his black-painted nails. He looks good, standing there— _perfect_ — decked out in dark, high-waisted trousers and a rust orange poplin shirt – with black and white stripe accents –  that’s tucked in with deliberate carelessness and Liam _wants_. The slight glint of the thin strings of metal hanging loosely from Theo’s neck draws Liam’s eyes to the sliver of his chest that peaks out through the unbuttoned shirt and _goddamn it, Liam wants_.

It’s a little scary.

Something in Theo’s eyes melts a little, just the slightest bit, and he looks like he’s about to say something when—

“ _Perfect_!”

Liam blinks, feeling entirely out of place as Corey beams at them from behind his camera. Shit, he didn’t even realize the shutter went off!

It _does_ make him feel a little better to see Theo’s eyes grow slightly wide. If Mr. I-Can-Sense-Everything-Under-the-Sun couldn’t tell, then it’s perfectly fine!

“I want one last one!” Corey calls, brow furrowed lightly in thought of how _else_ he could possibly torture Liam, “Theo, arm around Liam’s shoulders. I need you to tilt your head down ever-so-slightly, like you’re in the process of looking at Liam—but keep your eyes fixed on me. Yeah, just like that! Liam!”

Liam’s head snaps up, throat tight—and it’s definitely not because of the thin metallic choker wrapped snug around his neck. The sensation of Theo’s arm lying heavy over his shoulders very nearly burns him, mirroring the way the softness in Theo’s gaze blinds him.

“Yeah?” He croaks out, licking his lips.

“I want you to look at Theo—not all the way, do you hear?” Corey yells, “Head tilted slightly upward—but eyes forward, on me!"

Liam tries his best to replicate what Corey asks him to do, but the only reaction he receives is a slight frown.

“Something’s missing…” Corey’s muttering to himself, before his expression lights up, and Liam is hit with instant dread. “Wait, that’s it! Liam, arm around Theo’s waist - and Theo, hold Liam's hand!”

“I’m sorry?” Liam must have misheard.

Corey glares at him, and maybe Liam _meep_ s a little – but that’s nobody’s business but his own!

“Arm around Theo’s waist,” Corey grits out through clenched teeth, and Liam doesn’t think, letting his arm fly out, circling just above Theo’s hips. "Theo: his  _hand_."

“L-Like this?” Liam stutters.

His breath nearly whooshes from his lungs when he feels Theo's hand sliding against his, callouses scraping roughly against his palms. He has to bend his arm, holding it up slightly so Theo's arm can still comfortably reach around his shoulders.

There's too much of Theo.

He's  _everywhere_.

And Liam can't get enough.

“That’s it!” Corey confirms, and Liam shivers at the heat of Theo’s skin against Liam’s fingers as he presses them into his side. Theo shoots him a slightly quizzical expression that disappears just as fast as it’s come. “Perfect! And, hold on—”

Corey walks forward, camera hung loosely around his neck and works on correcting Liam’s posture, wanting him to angle himself slightly more towards Theo, getting him to drop his arm lower around Theo’s waist. Liam lets himself drift off, hand curling comfortably into the low jut of Theo’s hip, though he understandably startles when he feels something brush lightly against his chest and—

It’s _Theo_.

“W-What’re you _doing_?” He hisses at Theo as Corey turns to walk back to his spot. Theo’s free arm lies over his chest, though his hand slips under the opened buttons of his shirt, fingers teasingly grazing over Liam’s heated skin. “H-Hey, stop it!”

“Wow, how rude,” Theo clucks his tongue at him, the condescending asshole—but Liam can’t even say anything, too busy trying not to squirm at every miniscule twitch of Theo’s fingers. “For your information, Corey wanted me to do this—though, I can’t say I really mind.”

Here, he leers at Liam, cocky little smirk tugging at his lips, “I also think _you_ don’t mind either, though. Do you, Liam?”

Liam wishes he could answer that with a definitive _no_ , but his breath only catches in his chest, serving to embolden the smirk on Theo’s lips. Damn it, _damn it_!

“I hate you,” Liam mutters, no bite to his tone. He also digs his fingers into Theo’s side just because. Liam's grip on his hand also grows bruisingly tight, not that it matters very much, in the end.

Theo just snickers, unflinching, “I’m sure you do, Little Wolf. Now, smile for the camera, yeah?”

He’s lucky Corey’s looking, because Liam wouldn’t have hesitated to yank on Theo’s layered necklaces to strangle his damn neck for the stupid nickname. Or, maybe he would’ve been creative and jabbed at Theo until a rib snapped. Instead, Liam has to look at the camera with a neutral expression, portraying silently that _no,_ he _totally_ doesn’t intend to murder Theo in his sleep.

The lights nearly blind him every time Corey clicks a picture, and Liam swears Theo’s fingers are getting more and more curious as they subtly map out the contours of his clavicle, gliding over the hollow of his throat once Corey _finally_ announces that they’re done.

“That was perfect!” Corey gushes, bright-eyed. Liam has to grit his teeth so he doesn’t sock him in the face—Mason would _not_ be pleased, and what little peace and quiet Liam has left would disappear. Thanks, but no thanks.

“Do you think you could send me some of these?” Theo asks curiously, looking over Corey’s shoulder as the boy spazzes over his new pictures, and wait a minute—

“No, _no_ , you will _not_ be sending _anything_ —”

“Sure!” Corey agrees cheerfully.

Now, Liam actually has to _gnash_ his teeth together to keep himself calm. “I literally just said _no_.”

“Too bad, I guess,” Theo says loftily, taking Liam’s hand in his. Liam only has a moment to admire their matching nails, before Theo’s tugging him away from the set, “See you, Bryant.”

“Bye guys!” Corey yells, the traitor. “Thanks for helping me out!”

Liam doesn’t really care about what Corey says after that, too preoccupied with prying Theo’s hand off his; unfortunately, Theo’s a strong bastard, so Liam is just strung along against his will.

Yes. That’s totally why. It’s not like Liam’s enhanced capabilities far outmatch Theo’s or anything—w-why would you think that?

“I can walk on my own, you know!” Liam protests, stumbling when Theo’s pace quickens. “You don’t have to – _gah_! – pull so hard!”

“I know,” is all Theo says until they reach his truck, “get in anyway—unless you want Corey’s photos to _somehow_ make their way onto the internet.”

Now that Theo has leverage, Liam does as he asks, wondering briefly why the plot’s shifted so substantially—why it’s become something eerily similar to a murder mystery. Except, really, there’d be no mystery here—Liam would be dead, and _everyone_ would know it’s Theo who did it. It’s mildly comforting to think that, at the very least, there are people out there who would probably exact their revenge for him. But, no, he digresses: the point _is_ , this is supposed to be family friendly!

“Why do you look like that?” Theo’s gotten into the driver’s seat by this point in Liam’s inner monologue, looking quizzically at him.

“Like what?” Liam croaks out. “Like I’m about to be brutally murdered after being all but carried to your truck and threatened to get in? Gee, I don’t know Theo!”

Theo takes a moment, but Liam can see when it clicks; his eyes go wide, then scrunch as his face crumples in helpless laughter.

“It’s not funny!” Liam protests, outraged. “You wouldn’t understand!”

“Uh huh, sure,” Theo wipes at a stray tear from the corner of his eye—except the asshole is faking and Liam _knows_ it. “Whatever you say, Liam.”

“Fuck you.”

“You wish,” Theo scoffs as Liam splutters in rightful indignation. “Besides, I just wanted to get away from Corey for a little while. Is that so bad?”

 _Yes_ , Liam wants to say, but that’d be hypocritical, so he settles for stony silence instead and hopes that it’ll convey his feelings better than words ever would. Of course, this is Theo, so he’s probably hoping for too much so—

Ah, heck. No, he’s just being mean.

“You wanted to be alone,” Liam decides it’s _his_ turn to be the teasing one. “With _me_.”

It doesn’t have the intended effect, though, because Theo only snorts lightly, “shocking, I know.”

“Hey!” Liam cries in offence, but Theo shoots him a soft _look_ , hand meeting his and thumb dragging over his knuckles ever-so-gently—and Liam’s putty. “Alright, fine. So, we’re away.”

He splays out his free hand, gesturing at the view out through the windshield, “now what?”

Theo grins at him—a _real_ smile, almost shy; not one of those fake, cocky smirks he’s perfected—and taps against the steering wheel. He doesn’t let go of Liam’s hand, not even for a moment.

“I was hoping we could find out for ourselves…together.”

Liam can’t stop the elated grin curving his lips, and it serves as answer enough.

 _Together_.

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is always helpful! I want to be able to improve my writing, so if there's anything you think I can work on, don't hesitate to let me know! :)


End file.
